


Miraculous: Tales of Batty Bat

by shankress



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/F, F/M, Multi, Season 2 doesn't apply
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-06-09 03:06:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 48,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6887071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shankress/pseuds/shankress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ezra Denise Hawthorne is caught in a myopic rich society full of discriminate white supremacists in the city of London, England. After being fed up with an entire lifetime of suffering under their insipid worldviews, she decides to leave her family behind and prepare for a new and better life... in Paris, France.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Origins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saintrae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintrae/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Miraculous Cuban Chameleon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014647) by [saintrae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintrae/pseuds/saintrae). 



> Bear with me because the first few chapters are going to be moderately slow. This is gonna be a long story but you're gonna want to read through at least this chapter to understand more on the character's backstory.
> 
> Also, I go by the English version but still use Chat Noir's name as it is originally in the French version just because it makes way more sense.

**Prologue**

 

_One strong grip on the handle, legs parted, standing in a diagonal position from the court, eyes on the ball._

Those are the words she had to repeat in her head when she played. That was the method her father had taught her. Terrence was more of a croquet man, himself, but he figured his high school profession would come in handy if only to keep Ezra’s mouth shut about her hateful words on their rich culture. They weren’t hateful to Ezra, of course. To her, they were the truths given on their myopic white supremacy. He took one good look at his fifteen-year-old daughter. Her bright blonde hair was tied back and her muscles tensed when the ball would fly past her. He chuckled each time. It was true that he was enlightened by the small moments of this daughter’s frustration, but it was only fair given all the frustration she gave _him_.

Ezra stretched out her arm and hit the ball from the rim of the racket before it could fly past her again. Shockingly enough, it was a successful hit that flew right past her father who was unprepared for that shot.

“Haha, _Deuce_!” shouted Ezra, raising her arms to the air, dropping her racket. Terrence went from sly to astonished at the game his daughter played. He knew she would grow up to be quite the character and a great sportswoman in time. For this, he never let her give up the sport and never tried to change her again, even if it meant avoiding her when they weren’t competing if only to avoid her frustrating opinions. Of course, this would be the only thing he would never try to change about her.

 

**1**

 

Years later, Ezra stands on the court, both hands on the racket, eyes peered on the ball as her father begins to serve. This is it, the last winning shot. If she misses, he wins. If she doesn’t, she has another chance to win.

He drops the ball. It goes down in what seems like slow motion to Ezra, as slow as the sweat dripping down her forehead. She takes short, heaved breaths as she sees the ball bounce back up. He hits the ball, right in the center of the racket, and it beams toward Ezra. Suddenly, slow motion accelerated rapidly and the ball goes right past her head, almost touching her ear. She missed. He won. Again. Like always.

“You can never get past a deuce, can you, darling?” Terrence said with an expression of frustration mixed with smugness. He was better than her at the sport in every way, but his pride never allowed him to go easy on her when she scored a deuce, thus, she never gained the confidence to actually compete in legitimate games.

“It’s a bloody curse!” Ezra yelled, slamming her racket onto the ground.

“Aw chin up, love. Why don’t we go play us a game of croquet, get your mind off this tennis rubbish?” He already knew the answer, but if this was as good a time as any to make conversation with his daughter, it was worth a shot.

“Right, as if I ever wanted to play a sodding game of _crap-quet_.” Ezra said with her arms crossed. She bent down to pick up her racket and store it in its case before heading out saying, “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

Terrence watched on and was enlightened with his daughter’s frustration rather than remorseful from being the cause of it. With a smile, he utters, “My Divine Deuce.”

 

***

“Rubbish! You speak rubbish to me!” Terrence said at the birth of his daughter. He had dreamt that his wife, Miriam, would bear him a son who was to be the perfect heir to the family's inheritance. Instead, came out a chubby little female infant who emerged from the womb crying, hysterically, but not even the child was as hysterical as her father when he heard the piercing words from his wife who had said, “I'm done.”

She _was_ done. She was done with having any more children. The pain of going into labor and the burden of growing the fetus she had to carry in her womb for 9 months was enough for her to call it quits. Had she known the incomparable struggle beforehand, she'd have gotten the little problem removed. Yes, she was done and she was ready to take the next step in being done. “I'm clipping my cords, Terrance.”

When he took a breath and calmed himself, his wife could see his disappointment in him and suggested they could adopt.

“Rubbish!” he yelled once more. “The heir must be of Hawthorne blood!”

After moments of contemplating, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt when finding the right moment to ask, “So what would you like to name her?” Surprised that Miriam wasn't jumping to a list of possible names, he pondered and wanted to pick the right name for his newborn child. Little did he know that Miriam already had an idea for a name in her head that she hoped her husband would come close to.

Finally, he said, “Ezra. Ezra Hawthorne.”

“Darling, that is a man's name,” she pointed out in contempt.  

“Think about it for a moment, love. It sounds close enough to be unisex. It seems rather fitting when you come to think about it, doesn't it?”

Miriam rolled her eyes. She would let her husband have this one. “Very well, Terrence. Ezra it is then, but her middle name will be Denise.”

“Oh, Come, now. Can we honestly _get_ more American than that?”

“You decided the first name. I'll decide on the second. I deserve it.” Miriam glared at her husband and he knew it wasn't a good idea to mess with a woman who just went through the pains of going into labor which was way worse than her times of PMS.

“Alright, love. You can call her Denise.” Seeing the smile that grew on her face made him relive the moment he fell in love with her. Maybe this child turning up as a girl wouldn't be such a terrible thing after all.

***

 

“I will not put that thing on! It will suffocate me!” Ezra said, disgusted when her mother pulled out a corset from an old chest.

“Denise,” said her mother, annoyed, “I will not tolerate this insolent behavior. This was your great-grandmother’s corset that she had worn to _her_ Birthday Ball. My mother had to wear it, I had to wear it. It’s a tradition for the descendant of the Taylor family to wear on her coming of age party. I won’t even tie it too tight, just let me help you put it on!” Ezra began to run away from her mother and had Miriam chasing her across the room, into the hallway, and down the steps of the illustrious mansion they called home. Miriam tried calling out to her daughter, but she was stubborn and persistent to evade all the primping and dressing her mother would do as if she was a porcelain doll. It made Ezra feel like a porcelain doll, too, with all the makeup that was plastered on her face. Regardless, whether or not it was her birthday and her mother had it all planned out perfectly, she was also legally an adult now so she had every right to refuse being dressed up this time.

“Get away,” she yelled out once more before bumping right into her dad.

Now she was in for it.

“Ezra, what on Earth are you doing?” Terrence looked down at her as she looked back up at him with eyes full of perturbation.

“Mum wants to dress me up again, Father,” whined Ezra. “I’ve had enough. I’m sick of playing dress-up with her. I’ve had enough ‘primping and pampering and preppy, pandering polishing! I shouldn’t have to be ‘ladylike’ to be presentable.”

Terrence rolled his eyes. “Just do as your mother tells you, Ezra. She’s been waiting years to set this day up just for you.” The sounds of heavy breathing approached them.

“It’s the least you can do for all the trouble you’ve caused,” Miriam spoke, out of breath, her hand on the wall from exhaustion in trying to chase her daughter.

Ezra finally collected herself and spoke in a calm manner. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll do it under the condition that you let the common class people join in on the party.”

Terrence was instantly appalled at the request. Miriam rolled her eyes at his abhorred countenance. She never much cared for anything her husband didn’t take too lightly. Well, she cared to an extent. She never let herself become overwhelmed with hatred. It wasn’t appropriate for a woman of her stature and the bitterness only ages one quicker.

“Darling,” he spoke softly, knelt down to his daughter, grabbing her hand and placing the back of it to his forehead, dismay in his expression. “This is too much to ask for. Just.. please, pick another. Any other.”

Ezra pulled her hand away from her father. “No,” she said, firmly. “Just because they are less wealthier than us doesn’t mean they are ‘filthy, diseased scum’ as you always put it. Some of them have actually _worked_ for us.”

“Not the blacks,” he said. “Never the blacks. They’re the filthiest.”

“Your mind is clouded with judgment and criticism for a form of life you never understood. You disgust me.” Ezra walked away, calmly and swiftly, back up to her bedroom showing her parents every sign that she should no longer be bothered.

 

The halls were silent. Hours had passed and Ezra was still in her room, printing out a plane ticket to fly to France, shortly after her birthday tomorrow. With everything she had heard about America, she knew it would be a regrettable option to choose that country for a fresh start, away from her parents, even if it was the only other country that spoke, and used, her language nationwide. Paris was the only viable option. She had always enjoyed the culture, even taking a class on the language all throughout high school and requesting the same ambrosial dish, _Magret de Canard_ , every night for dinner with the exception of Friday nights when her family would dine altogether with the chef’s weekly meal.

Now that Ezra was of the legal age to have the freedom to make her own decisions, she was able to make this trip finally happen. Although, she wasn’t completely through with college so she would need to transfer to a school in Paris where she needed to be literate in the French language for every class. She was already pretty good as far as speech went, but reading and writing was a completely different ball game. However the matter, she was prepared to deal with it anyway.

Ezra tried familiarizing herself with what was currently going on in the city, so she decided to search for articles on current events online. She tied her long, bright blonde hair up and out of her face and proceeded to search. The first thing she found was something about a ladybug. Under that search was something about a black cat. She ignored this, as it was deemed useless information to her, and scrolled down to another search option. The next thing she found was about the head of a fashion design company. The headline read:

 

**“Gabriel Agreste replaces feathers on the famous derby hat with false feathers to avoid allergic reaction.”**

 

“Isn't there anything more newsworthy happening in this city?” She uttered to herself. Continuing her search, she found more on this ladybug thing. _LadyBlog_ is what it said on the link. She decided to finally see what all the fuss was about.

As she clicked on the link, opening the page, she heard continuous banging on her bedroom door, before she could see anything on it.

“Ezra!” she heard from the other side. “Open this door now! We must discuss y’r intolerant behaviour from earlier!” It was her father. He had been drinking. She could sense it in the aggression of his voice. He also had no other reason to come up and want to talk to her about anything. Most days, he had never even found the time for her, nor was he ever trying to. She didn’t mind, anyway. Some days, she tried avoiding him as well.

She closed her laptop and got up to open the door. Softly, she spoke, “Yes, father?”

He gave one swift smack to her face, leaving her mouth agape and an insulted look on her face as she brought her palm to her cheek. It had been the first time he struck her. He didn’t show any sign of remorse to what he did.

“You are never to speak to me in that insufferable tone ever again.” He paused and locked eyes with hers to make sure she had his full attention, then continued. “Understood?!”

The way his arm hung with his hand on the border of the door and the way he swayed as if he couldn’t keep his balance showed Ezra that he was more intoxicated than he ever had been, or at least more than he ever had shown her. If he was drunk enough to strike her as he did, she didn’t want to wait to see what else he might do. She slammed the door in his face and locked it immediately. That didn’t stop him from banging on the door once more. Ezra screamed in terror.

“Ezra, open this door!” _Bang, bang, bang._ “Ezra!” _Bang._ “Ezra!”

Ezra moved herself back to her bed and curled up, covering her ears, pressing tight with her palm until the banging stopped.

“Keep this up, darling,” he spoke, “and I’ll take back my money and rip up your ‘escape ticket’ so you’ll never leave this house!” Footsteps were heard fading into the distance.

He was gone now, probably slumping back to his room to knock out on his bed. As Ezra’s tears dried, she took a moment, letting out on more wept sob before checking her printer for the ticket.

There it was, the flight scheduled for tomorrow morning, earlier than planned, originally to avoid having to attend her “Birthday Ball”. The deal was that her parents would give her 5,000 pounds locked in her bank account with a pin she didn’t know. Her parents would give her the pin after the party so she wouldn’t have any ideas on trying to leave before then. 5,000 pounds was too low a price for the trip she was making and even though it would come up as 6,326.67 in euros, it still wasn’t enough, either way. She needed more time to find a job and half of that money would already go to rent for an apartment. She knew damn well that her parents could afford to give her more, but she also knew they did that so she could come crawling back to them when she was spent. Regardless, it was worth at least some time away from her insipid reality.

None of it mattered anyway. Ezra wasn’t planning to leave with the money. She wouldn’t be able to get the pin if she wasn’t going to be around to receive it at the end of the party. She had to resort to whatever money she had left in her savings. The tickets were already bought, so that problem was solved. She would need to find a nice inn to spend the night so she could take her flight in the morning. She only had a few hundred pounds saved up from her allowance, specifically for this night. She had only hoped that she would be able to afford the expenses with the little money she had.

All her things were packed. Her father was passed out drunk. Her mother was probably in bed with him. Now seemed like as good a time as any to make her clandestine escape. Ezra stored away her laptop and grabbed her things after using her phone to call a taxi. She took in one deep solid inhale and exhaled her last breath she would ever breathe in the room she grew up in. Opening the door, the eerie sound of a vocal entrance echoed throughout the mansion.

 _Did father leave on the telly again?_ Ezra thought to herself. She was not prepared to find out.

Ezra picked up her suitcase and stuck her arms in the straps that converted it into a backpack. The luggage weighed heavy on her but she dealt with the struggle of carrying it down the steps anyway.

The singing grew louder as she descended the stairs and neared the lounge room. It sounded like it came from an opera that carried her with the sound of an angelic whisper. She could begin to make out the words as she neared the open room:

 

_I’ve got you under my skin_

_I’ve got you deep in the heart of me_

_So deep in my heart_

_That you’re really a part of me_

 

It was as majestic as any voice she ever heard, but there was a recognizable tone in the voice and an accent no one could miss. Curious, Ezra put her suitcase down and swiftly moved, with the utmost stealth, into the lounge room. The singing rang closer, but there was no television in the lounge room.

When looking from behind the wall, Ezra could see her mother sitting on one of the many chairs and sofas that surrounded a coffee table. Expecting her mother to be reading another one of her books, she saw that her mother was the cause of the singing. Little did Ezra know, her mother was once striving to be a singer but had to give it up when she realized the responsibility of raising a child would hold her back from her career.

Ezra moved in closer, silent as the night, reveling in the glow she saw in her mother when she sang. Once more, an undiscovered part of her parent was unleashed. She could tell they were both already getting used to the fact that their daughter was gone, even though she hadn’t left yet.

Ezra began backing away from her mother to exit the room when suddenly she saw her turn her head around, caught by her mother’s gaze. Ezra froze in place as Miriam stared right back into the eyes of her daughter. She paused her singing only for a moment as this happened, then continued, still locking her daughter down with her blank stare.

 

_Don’t you know little fool,_

_You never can win_

 

Miriam raised her finger to her head and began tapping on her temple as she sang the next line:

 

_Use your mentality_

_Wake up to reality_

 

Staying in sync to the beat of the song, Miriam turned her head back around and didn’t cease to finish singing. As she sang the last two lines, Ezra could see her mother making strange and peculiar gestured with her hand as if she was trying to point out the same four numbers.

 

_‘Cause I’ve got (four)_

_You (one)_

_Under my (three)_

_Skin (two)_

 

She repeated the same four gestures, humming the duration of the song, until Ezra figured out what it meant.

It was the pin number for her secured bank account. Miriam was helping her daughter escape.

Ezra quickly moved back to her suitcase and began rolling it, alongside her, to the front door. She took one last memorable glance at her mother, before exiting the mansion. Miriam was seen drinking her twelfth glass of chardonnay as she drunkenly hummed on. Her eyes were closed and she took one last sip as she motioned for her daughter to leave already with her hand. Without another word or further hesitation, Ezra finally opened the door and walked out to the taxicab that was waiting for her in the front, leaving Miriam to herself, once again.

Miriam opened her eyes when she heard the door close behind her daughter. She took in a long, deep breath and exhaled through her mouth, a sigh of relief escaping along with it. She was finally free, they both were.

 

Ezra opened the cab door and made her way inside after putting her suitcase in the trunk. A broad silhouette began to turn his head and ask, “Where are you headed, lass?” He was a Scot. Terrence never much cared for the Scots or their heavy, barely comprehensible, accents. The whole Scottish vibe was indecent to him. Ezra knew this about her father, but tried to ignore it and any further thought on her parents for they were history now. She was done with them.

“Nearest inn to the London Heathrow.. Please.” She said and they were off. Ezra didn’t look back. She had no reason to. She was gone now, and that was the end of it. _Out with the old and in with the new_ , she thought to herself, and never before had she felt more relieved to know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be a little bit faster..


	2. Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra has just escaped from her wretched home and booked a flight straight to Paris. Arriving there was already a step. Getting an apartment will be a bigger one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is definitely a bit faster...  
> .. and shorter.  
> I'm attempting to use the British kind of English in my spelling.

_… It was already expected of him; his clouded mind, his drunken nature. I never would have imagined he’d raise a hand to me, however, much less cause physical harm to me with it. I’d never been hit in any way other than with a tennis ball a few times around. The feeling that resided on my pulsing cheek, as I shut the door on him, stung like a thousand needles. In addition to not knowing much of receiving real physical pain, I also wonder what it’s like to cause it, to be on the other side, in that position. I pray I never have to walk half a mile in his shoes to find out..._

_... or mother’s for that matter. The way she behaved was strange as well. She was so absent in her mind that she had no care to reveal a side of herself unseen by my own eyes. Her voice, eerie as it was angelic, carried me down the steps and led me into her domain. She seemed lifeless, but somewhat at peace with herself. She knew my intentions but helped me anyway. I’m still not sure if it was because she was drunk or genuine, but I did not let the opportunity slip away. I left them. I left them all behind._

_Father is probably more enraged than worrisome over me at this moment. He may have been trying to call me, but I left my phone at the Heathrow on the seat I was sitting on. There’s no turning back now. I escaped with the currency of our not-so-great nation and am on my way to France to convert it into the new currency of a better nation that shall soon be my new home. I grow much more impatient than excited at this moment. I feel the weight of my father, no longer, as I distance myself farther and farther from him and every other insipid being I left behind. Thankfully, I won’t have to miss tennis. I brought my racket with me and plan on doing some good with it, even if I don’t possess the skill or have any right to wield it...._

 

… as her father made her believe. Ezra finished writing the first entry of her new Daily Journal she bought to write down the details of her occurrences and encounters in this new country. She closed the journal and pondered as she stared out the plane window, on her way to Paris, already gone after spending a night in the inn she was escorted to.

Arriving to Paris gave Ezra little _papillons_ in her stomach, even though her expression showed otherwise. She hadn’t broken a smile in years. Just this once, however, she would let herself sneak a gleeful smirk as she grabbed her luggage and dropped it onto the ground, making it official that she was moved to Paris.

Upon exiting the building, she came across a shelf full of magazines and brochures of all the main tour spots of Paris. Typical, that an airport in Paris has a station for tourists. There were some magazines below some brochures. One of them read “New and Improved Derby Hat” with a picture of a tall and skinny blond boy on the cover wearing a feathered hat. Ezra ignored this familiarity when a certain real estate brochure caught her eye. She pulled it out of its spot on the shelf and skimmed through it. She tried finding the cheapest apartment around, cheap enough to conserve her money. This is what it felt like to be poor and she was more than okay with it.

There was a perfect cheap apartment right in the middle of town.

Holding the brochure, Ezra ran out, excitement in her steps, to hail a cab. After a moment, one approached her and rolled the window down.

“Where are you headed?” the man spoke in French. Thankfully, Ezra’s French was good enough to understand basic conversation at the very least.

Pointing at the apartment in the brochure, Ezra said, “Here, please.” She handed him the brochure. He studied the page she was pointing to, memorizing the address. “Alright get in,” he said and handed her back the brochure.

It was a short ride but it felt like hours to her.  She clenched the brochure in her fist, damp with sweat, unsure if she was nervous or relieved to be one step closer to her new home.

Right when the cab driver was pulling up to the apartment, a particular newsstand caught Ezra’s eye and she immediately asked to stop there. After collecting her luggage, Ezra payed the driver for his services and went up to the stand. The first thing she saw that caught her eye was a headline reading:

**“Ladybug and Chat Noir Do It Again!”**

This again.

Curious, Ezra purchased the paper, but before she could read any further, something else caught her eye. Alongside the stand was a bakery with a sign on the window that read **“HELP WANTED”.** She stored the paper in her trusty satchel and approached the store, a bit surprised at the convenience of the situation.

“Welcome,” said a woman with blueish-black hair wearing a kimono. She carried a box that almost seemed bigger than her as she spoke. “If you need anything, kindly ask my daughter over there at the register.” She gestured to a young, petite girl with a hair colour that had matched her mother’s. She was tending to a customer who sounded like they were picking up their recently prepared cake. Ezra went and stood behind the customer, waiting her turn.

“What can I help you with?” asked the girl at the register. Ezra shook her head, recollecting herself as she was distracted in her own thoughts while she was waiting in line.

“Oh,” said Ezra. “I was just coming to see about the sign on the window. I’d like to apply here.”

The girl at the counter darted her eyes up and down Ezra’s figure as if she was observing her to see if she looked genuine enough to ask such a question. Hesitant, the girl called, “Papa!”

A tall, hefty man wearing an apron came down the steps.

“What is it, Mari?” he said, approaching his daughter at the counter, shifting his eyes to Ezra.

“You the boss?” Ezra asked him, sternly.

“In a way,” he responded, slightly stunned at her assertive behaviour.  “What can I do for you?”

Gesturing outside, she said, “I saw the sign out front and was wondering if you have an opening.”

He pondered for a moment, then pulled her aside and asked her, “Do you have any experience in this line of work?”

“Not really,” Ezra replied.

“Do you have any kind of work experience?”

She shook her head, hesitantly.

After a pause, he asked, “Are you a fast learner?”

Ezra nodded, firmly. “As fast as it gets.”  

He pursed his lips, pondering once more, then said, “I like your confidence.” He held his arm out. “Welcome to the Boulangerie Patisserie. I’m Tom, your new boss.”

Ezra lit up, surprised and excited, shaking his hand. “That quick?”

“Sure, why not? You seem like you’d be able to handle this kind of job. Yeah, you may not have the experience, but everyone’s gotta start somewhere.” He leaned in closer, whispering, “Plus, we also have a, um.. shortage on employees as you can probably tell.”

“Yep,” said the woman in the kimono carrying another box, passing right behind Tom so she heard what he was whispering. “The funny thing is that all the employees are family, too.” She nudged Tom, shoulder to shoulder, and winked at him.

Tom smiled at her as she walked off with the box, a slight chuckle escaping him. Ezra could tell they were married, but she didn’t need the hint the woman gave to notice it. It was in their chemistry. She could pretty much figure out anything by observing the little details. When it came to being observant, Ezra was Sherlock Holmes.

Ezra did notice the shortage, though, as well. It was actually one of the first things she noticed when she walked inside. Looking around the interior of the bakery once more, she saw the girl at the counter, Mari, prepping a box of baked goods, pushing the box towards Ezra who moved back to the counter.

“These are for you,” she said as Ezra opened the box to see what was inside.

A box of green tea macarons.

“Congratulations on getting the job,” she continued, sticking out her arm, smiling. “I’m Marinette.” Her pigtails bounced behind her shoulders as she perked up with the utmost giddy and chipper attitude. This displeased Ezra for some reason. She, slowly, grabbed the box of macarons and eyed the girl as she said, “Uh.. Thanks.. I’ll come back later for my work schedule,” and walked out of the bakery, leaving her new co-worker at the counter with an unshaken hand.

Marinette just stood there in the position she was left in, awkwardly, an offended look stuck on her face.

 

Ezra walked into the apartment she was now residing in. The first thing she noticed was the scent of coffee emanating through the room. Coffee; the complete opposite choice of a hot beverage in England. She was definitely not home anymore and this made her feel, finally, content in the place she stood.

She stored away the box of macarons in the fridge before taking out her daily journal from her satchel and sticking the clipping of the apartment on the brochure into the journal. Below the clipping, she wrote:

 

**“To New Beginnings”**

 

A cliché in its time but one she used anyway. Flipping over the page, she began to list each little detail she observed in her new home, memorizing it, taking in the energies, finding comfort and ease in her new place of residence, accepting peace in this strange, new environment.

The smell of coffee, the teal carpeting, the greasy tiles in the kitchen that almost made her slip where she stood, the loud screech the sliding back door made when she went out to the balcony. She wrote it all down in her personal diary, not missing anything, not forgetting. She knew it now. She knew her home. This was it and she couldn’t be more satisfied with how things turned out.

Leaning forward on the fence, twenty floors high from the ground, Ezra looked out onto the entire view of her city. She could see the bakery she was going to be working in, distinctly, from a side glance. Not too far off into the distance could she see the Eiffel Tower, silhouetted in front of a purple sky fading into darkness.

The day was nearing its end and it had been a day well spent for Ezra, but at the same time a very exhausting day at that. Even though she was ready to crash on her bed and worry about school enrollment and work schedules later, she wanted to take another moment to capture the breathtaking scenery before finally calling it the great first day of her new life that it was, already inspired to write poetry of just the view, alone. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, savouring the fresher scent of Paris and forgetting the scent of her wretched past society in London.

_Out with the old and in with the new._

Suddenly, Ezra felt a sharp slicing in her eardrum. She opened her eyes, holding a bemused expression, and looked down to see a black wire wrapped around a bar of the balcony fence with a polka dot round figure at the end.

Was it a yoyo?

Ezra leaned forward to look over the balcony and she could see a blur with a face ascending rapidly with the wire. Ezra stepped back into the shade as a girl in a costume, resembling the look of a ladybug, propped herself on the edge of the balcony. Ezra was caught in awe as this miraculous girl stood before her, although she wasn’t noticed by this girl. Suddenly, everything was caught in slow-motion. The girl stood there with a fixed, heroic posture, her fists to her side and her chin up with a confident smile, her pigtails floating with the wind as they bounced behind her shoulders.

Wait.

Before Ezra could put in another thought, the girl zipped away using her yoyo and was gone in an instant. Ezra stood in her spot, frozen in place for a moment. Growing curious, she went back inside to write another entry in her daily journal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for plot development.


	3. Lycée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After encountering Ladybug right at the edge of her balcony and noticing an uncanny resemblance to the girl she met at the bakery, Ezra decides to proceed with her research on the heroes of Paris, writing important notes and conspiracies in her journal. She enrolls in Lycée, which is only a disaster waiting to happen, but it all doesn't seem so bad when she learns of the newbie before her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY SOME PLOT DEVELOPMENT  
> This chapter needed to be long tbh. Gotta keep y'all at the edge of your seats!
> 
> for real tho make sure to read at the end of this chapter

Ezra could not stop thinking about what she encountered that day. After she began to write an entry in her journal about what she had encountered, her attention had immediately shifted back to the newspaper and then to the website that was still open on her laptop. She went through every juicy article printed on the newspaper and every videotaped encounter this girl, Alya, had posted on the LadyBlog site, to learn all that she could about the dynamic duo known to Paris as _Ladybug_ and _Chat Noir_.

After some time, Ezra had her fill and was as educated with these superheroes as any normal resident of Paris. The connection between Ladybug and Marinette had slipped her mind, too, in the process of all that research.

Getting back into school was simple. It didn’t take Ezra too long to get herself enrolled in Lycée, to conclude her final year in school before University. The French school system didn’t differ too much from the English school system which made the transition all the more easier. Being the newbie in class was already a stretch, especially so late into the year, so Ezra felt the need to make herself as educated and average as possible. Being foreign also didn’t help at all, but at least it wouldn’t matter much considering Ezra was practically fluent when it came to speaking French, since it was so easy to transition accents when they were quite similar, so no one would be able to tell the difference.

After getting dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a purple t-shirt with a butterfly in the center, Ezra tied back her long bright blonde hair and tried fixing up her bushy blonde eyebrows, though to no avail. Ready for the day, she grabbed her satchel and headed out.

Taking the bus had been another new experience in Ezra’s life. It was no chauffeured Bentley with leather seats but she needed a way to get around. This is what it was like to be poor and this is how it would be indefinitely, no more Magret de Canard every night, no more one-on-one tennis, and especially no more high-class, old-fashioned white supremacy.

 

_Freedom never tasted so bittersweet_

_If ever a taste at all._

_It was always a non-existent flavour_

_Upon my dry tongue._

 

Metaphors, metaphors, and more metaphors. Oh, how she loved to keep the reader guessing in her writing. Poetry was preferred over any kind of writing she did and poetry was what she chose to write in her journal as she rode the bus to school. Freestyling was her favourite style of poetry and one she used better than any other.

And there it was. Lycée. The highlight of her life until the end of the semester. The school was fairly big on the outside, but felt like a paved jungle when she walked in. With her class schedule in hand, she swept the halls until she found anything remotely close to the room number of her homeroom class.

After dragging herself through four different hallways, she finally found the right room. Inhaling a deep breath, she opened the door.

Right on time.. for a newbie; everyone had already taken their seats and the bell had rung as Ezra entered the door. All heads turned to her but she tried to prevent seeing all the attention drawn to her by looking at the teacher and waiting for her to tell her to take her seat.

“Well hello,” the teacher said. “And just who might you be?”

Stiffly, Ezra responded, “Uh…” her eyes quickly darted to the rest of the class and back to the teacher. “My name is Ezra.” She waited, patiently, for the teacher to look through her roster to find her name. “Hawthorne,” she said after moments of seeing the teacher struggle.

“Ah, yes,” the teacher said, smacking her pencil on the attendance sheet. “There you are.” She put the pencil down and got up from her seat, walking around her desk to face the class. “Come, child,” she summoned. Ezra clenched her teeth, surprised that the teacher didn’t just tell her to sit, and walked, firmly, up to the teacher who turned her to face the class.

Ezra could see each student and she was already memorizing their faces as she looked around the entire class. She stopped when she met eyes with a familiar face who looked back at her while whispering to yet another familiar face next to her. She ceased to whisper when Ezra stared long enough. Ezra couldn’t forget her face for her face had been clouding her mind for days, as well as those pigtails. By the looks of how suspicious she looked when she was whispering, Ezra could tell she didn’t forget her face as well. Suddenly, her stare turned into an observant scowl, as she slightly tilted her head, and Marinette was unable to look away. The LadyBlog girl sitting next to her, whose name Ezra didn’t care to remember, looked from her friend to the newbie. She seemed almost excited at the rising tension between them.

“Class,” said the teacher, placing her hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “This is Ezra. She came all the way from London, England and today is her first day in class. Welcome her with ease and save the mockery, if you can.”

That last part didn’t make it any better. Ezra was stunned, though she didn’t break the stare. She did turn her head upright and blanken her expression. Now, she was exposed. Now, she was the book everyone would be dying to read. But Ezra wouldn’t open up. Ezra would be locked shut.

“Find any seat you would prefer to sit in for the remainder of this year and chose wisely because it won’t be changed.” The teacher walked back to her desk and Ezra broke the staredown between her and Marinette to search around the classroom for the furthest seat from the front that she could find. She spotted an empty spot in the corner and quickly paced herself to it. Nobody else sat in that row, just the way she liked it.

“Hi, there!” Ezra heard, startled, as she was looking down to write recent events in her journal. She looked up to see another blonde like her, but with short hair, wearing pink. By her choice of clothing and her tone of voice when she spoke, Ezra already wasn’t too keen on her.

“My name is Rose,” said the girl, turned completely around to face Ezra, sticking her hand out to be shaken. Boy, the people of France sure do love to get into physical contact.

Ezra shook Rose’s hand, sarcastically half-smiling. “Charmed.”

Her attention suddenly drifted to the girl sitting next to Rose who looked up at them from a side glance. She had long black hair with a purple streak tinting the ends of her hair and one long one covering her face that Ezra could barely see. She wore fairly dark clothing that shaped a fashion sense Ezra had never before seen. Ezra could tell she was either too timid to approach the conversation or, like her, chose to be withdrawn from overall conversation. Either way, Ezra was intrigued by her.

“That your friend?” asked Ezra, cocking her head to the girl next to Rose, grinding her teeth. She popped a stick of gum into her mouth to cease her long-lived habit.

“Oh, Juleka!” Rose leaned back, keeping her grip on her seat, and turned her head to the girl next to her. The girl lifted her head from her desk and turned her head to Rose, a word not uttered.

“Juleka, this is the newbie, Ezra. Isn’t it cool that she’s going to be sitting right behind us?!” Rose was a little too excitedly exaggerated for Ezra’s taste. Keeping her eyes on Juleka was the only thing keeping her at bay.

“Uh, yeah. I guess that’s cool,” Juleka said, timidly, sneaking a short-lived smile through her blank expression while giving a quick glance to Rose. “Welcome to the hell of French senioritis.”

Rose’s giggle sent prickles up Ezra’s spine. “Oh come on,” she said. “This year hasn’t been that bad.”

“For the last year of grade school, it has.. At least so far.” Juleka didn’t look up from her notebook. Ezra could see her doodling band logos.

“The year's not over yet!” Rose commented, assuredly.

“Yeah, well it's pretty damn close,” Juleka muttered under her breath so Rose couldn't hear. Ezra was able to hear, however. She sneaked a smirk.

Ezra listened in mild frustration as Rose droned on about class requirements and basic learning methods in the most upbeat attitude. Eventually Ezra couldn't take it anymore and began to, intentionally, trail off when Rose looked away from her face and down to where she was fiddling with her hands.

Moving her wide-eyed, frustrated gaze to the other side of the classroom, Ezra could see awkward gestures, in a failed attempt to be flirtatious, coming from Marinette and being thrown to the boy sitting in front of her who was, as fate would have it, yet another blond with bright eyes. The LadyBlog girl sitting next to Marinette was seen talking to the boy sitting next to the blond. He wore glasses and had dark skin, like her, with blue headphones hanging from his neck. Before she could visualize what they might be talking about, Ezra's attention was pulled from their conversing and moved to a particular dark-skinned beauty coming into the classroom, her curly brown hair thick as it was awe-inspiring. “Sorry I'm late,” said the girl slamming a tardy pass on the table. The teacher responded with something but Ezra’s ears blurred it out. Her attention was strictly held on the girl who walked over to find her seat.

Ezra couldn't look away. The mere sight of this girl had her entire body stiff in its place and she didn't know what to do about it, much less what the feeling was, in general. It only grew stronger when she met eyes with her. Ezra knew the girl noticed her unfamiliar face, but, this time, she wasn't embarrassed by it.

Finally, the tension broke when she was thrown off at seeing the girl wave to the four kids she was just observing from her seat.

As if things couldn't get anymore shocking.

Ezra, now humiliated, looked away, trying to get rid of her blush as she stared down at her desk. After a moment, she was able to contain herself.

Curiosity rose in Ezra and she couldn't help but tap Rose on the arm and interrupt her babbling. “Hey,” she said, getting Rose’s attention. Rose lifted her head to look at her new friend.

Ezra looked back to the girl. “Who’s that over there with the-” she was going to say ‘dark skin’ but immediately stopped herself when she realized how unnerving that sounded. “... curls.”

Rose had to take a minute to find out who Ezra was talking about but then realized who it was. “Oh,” she said, cheerfully. “That’s Élodie! She was a newbie here, just like you, a little while back. She’s nice, but we don’t talk much. She usually just hangs around Adrien and Nathanaël, kind of all the time.”

Ezra held her look at this _Élodie_ when she learned her name, listening as Rose continued to talk of her. Hearing her name made her feel warm like having a cup of tea. The words melted in her ears like chocolate fondue. _Élodie._

“I don’t know much about her other than she likes to paint, kinda like Nath. She likes to hang around him more than anyone. Those two seem to have their own thing going on. I’m not quite sure what to make of it but I want to say it’s _love_.”

Ezra felt a prickle travel up her spine and to the back of her neck. Her heart nearly skipped a beat at hearing that last statement, her spontaneous fantasy crushed. She furrowed her brow, turning her head back to Rose who had her head tilted to the side, leaning on her folded hands as her elbows were hugging her sides. She swallowed her upcoming vomit and told Rose, “You don’t _really_ believe it’s that serious, do you?”

“Her shipping chart doesn’t lie,” Juleka said, not looking up from her doodling, as she pulled out a paper from Rose’s bookbag. Rose immediately snagged it from her.

“Juleka! You don’t just show people my personals!”

“Please. It’s not like everyone wouldn’t agree with you. It’s pretty obvious.”

Ezra made a summoning gesture with her hand. “Let me see it.”

Rose, hesitantly, handed over her chart to Ezra, biting her nails when she saw her observing it. Ezra just kept her brows furrowed as she read through it.

 

Ivan > Mylène

Nino > Alya

Marinette > Adrien

Élodie > Nathanaël

Ladybug > Chat Noir

Chloé > Sabrina

Alix > Kim

 

Ezra’s furrowed brows turned into a single raised brow. “Superheroes, too?” she said.

“Superheroes, too,” replied Juleka with a smirk.

Handing back the chart to Rose, Ezra moved her gaze back to Élodie who she saw was passing notes with her crowd.

 

***

 

In a way, Marinette had already expected Ezra to be close enough to her age to be in Lycée, but she didn’t expect them to be in the same class together in the same grade, no less. Marinette had already been displeased when this rude girl just left her standing at the counter looking like an awkward fool, but something about the way Ezra looked today made Marinette really have a bad impression on her.

She nudged her good friend, Alya, on the arm, prepared to let her in on the shade she was ready to throw at Ezra. She immediately got Alya’s attention.

“I don’t have a good feeling about that new girl,” she said, looking at Ezra standing by the door.

“What do you mean,” asked Alya.

“I just don’t get a good vibe from her.” Marinette eyed the purple shirt Ezra was wearing with a butterfly in the center.

“You didn’t get a good vibe from Lila and she was actually pretty cool at first glance.”

“You, of all people, should know why I didn’t get a good impression on her!” Marinette almost raised her voice too high to be a whisper.

“Okay, okay. Chill, girl.” Alya placed her hand on her friend’s arm. She looked back at the newbie and eyed a particular resemblance to a particular snob in the class. “Look,” she said to her friend. “I can see why you aren’t too keen on her now, but you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Marinette. She could turn out to be a real sweetheart. You never know. Just give her a chance.”

Marinette’s face grew hot. “It’s not even about that. It’s -”

Before Marinette could continue and inform her friend how she had met this girl before, she noticed the new girl staring her down. She, too, had a very recognizable look and wasn’t surprised to see Ezra notice her, but Ezra noticed her for too long; the stare lingered. Ezra furrowed her brows at her. Marinette was frozen in her seat.

Alya looked from her friend to the new girl. She was nearly captivated by the tension she felt rising between them. As an aspiring journalist and runner of the LadyBlog, she was out for the drama and always ate it all up.

When the stare broke, Marinette’s eyes followed Ezra to the seat she took in the back row. This gave Alya an idea and she, slyly, looked to Adrien sitting in the row in front of them. She nudged Marinette in the elbow to get her attention and tapped Adrien on the shoulder.

“Hey, Adrien,” Alya called. Adrien turned around. Marinette widened her eyes and, bashfully, hid half of her face with her notebook.

“What do think about the new girl,” Alya asked Adrien, cocking her head toward Ezra’s newly assigned seat. “Quite the character, huh?”

“Oh.” Adrien looked over at Ezra who she saw was being introduced to Rose and Juleka. “Yeah,” he said.

Letting out a smirk and giving Marinette another nudge, Alya said, “Marinette, here, thinks there’s something off about her.” She felt Marinette hit knees with her under the desk, but ignored it and continued, “What’s your intake?”

“Actually,” Adrien said, just as suspicious but stifling a laugh, “She almost looks like Chloé.” Giggles echoed the room from their section. Everyone within earshot tried holding back their laughter as they immediately spread his conception around the room. Fortunately, Ezra was too busy dealing with Rose’s babbling to notice what was going on.

Alya calmed her laughter. “I think it’s safe to say that can be agreeable.”

Adrien looked over to Marinette who, he noticed, wasn’t joining in, her face placid when she put the notebook down.

“What do you think, Marinette?” he said. “What’s your first impression on Chloé #2?” More giggles were heard. Hearing them, Adrien realized it may not have been the right thing to say, but he had dealt with Chloé’s forward flirtations for much too long to even separate the girl he hardly knew from the original annoyance in his life, at least for the moment.

Marinette stammered when her eyes met his. “Um.. N-Not really.. I don’t think much of it. I mean- you know. I.. I..” She covered her face with the notebook again, slamming it on her face in shame. She looked to Alya, expecting her to save her from the awkward moment, but she was already conversing with Nino, paying no mind to her friend in her time of need. Marinette sighed, putting the notebook down as Adrien stared with two raised brows.

 

As if fate had written it, Élodie walked into the classroom, heaving breaths as if she was robbed of them, drawing all the attention to her.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, slamming down a tardy pass.

“Try not to let it happen again, Miss Beaumont,” said the teacher who was filing attendance sheets.

“You got it,” Élodie saluted the teacher. She waved to her friends as she made her way to her seat and met eyes with the new girl. Élodie wondered who she was but her focus was drawn away when she saw Alya, Marinette, Nino, and Adrien all wave back, surprised to see Marinette wave considering she wasn’t too keen on her since she first moved to Paris. There was just always something about Marinette and new girls. Nathanaël waved from the back and motioned Élodie to come take her seat. Élodie smiled and took her seat next to him.

“Hey Nath,” she said. “What’s new?”

He pointed to Ezra. “That girl over there, for one.”

Élodie looked over to the row on the opposite side from where she was sitting. To her right she could see Rose and Juleka sitting in front of a girl who had an uncanny resemblance to the class snob. “Oh, yeah. I noticed her when I walked in. What’s her name?”

Nathanaël, barely paying mind to the class newbie, looked down at his sketchbook where he was finishing up a drawing. Though, for Élodie, he was all ears. “Ezra, apparently,” he replied.

Élodie kept looking on at the new girl who was trying to get Rose’s attention for some reason. When Ezra’s arm moved to tap on Rose’s arm, Élodie could see a peculiar butterfly placed right in the center of the new girl’s violet tee. The strange analogy it carried to a certain villainous figure made her raise a brow. She saw Ezra begin to look her way and turned her head away before she noticed her staring. She pursed her lips. “So, um, what are you drawing, Na-” She looked over to what she saw Nathanaël drawing, and was caught in her breath.

It was a fine-detailed sketch of his alter ego, Evillustrator, carrying Élodie in his arms. There was what looked like an explosion in the background. He appeared to be rescuing her.

“It’s um…” He signed the sketch and slid it over to her, bashfully. “... for you.”

She knew he was aware of her interest in the akumatized villains, but she found it sweet how Nathanaël made his persona out to be a hero, as he had originally intended.

Her awestruck nature couldn’t last long, though. She saw the student in front of her toss a note on her desk from behind. She opened it up.

 

 _Doesn’t the new girl look a lot like_ _Chloé_ _?_

_-Alya_

 

Élodie looked over to her group. Everyone, aside from Marinette, looked back at her. It was then that she realized Marinette’s wave back at her from before was sarcastic. Élodie guessed she still wasn’t over the fact that she had been living with Adrien for the past couple of months. She threw a smirk at the three, but still had to question why it mattered that Ezra had these similarities to Chloé. She tore a piece of paper from her notebook and began to write something down, but was interrupted when yet another note was thrown onto her desk.

 

_Looks like Chloé better watch out. She’s got some competish going on._

_-Nino_

 

Élodie scoffed. She didn’t want to believe there was going to be another addition to the dastardly duo of the class. Though, judging by her withdrawn nature, Élodie figured Ezra may just be sensitive to these jokes and not what any of them expected.

One more note glided down to her desk.

 

_I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news here, but we may just have double the trouble_

_…. If you know what I mean._

_-Adrien_

 

Him, too?

Élodie was surprised to see Adrien give any comment at all to the newbie. She crumpled up the paper and threw it at him, the note hitting him in the back of his head. Adrien turned around, a bemused look on his face as he looked around to see who threw it. Élodie waved at him, getting his attention, with a smug look on her face.

Nathanaël noticed when Élodie threw the paper rock to her good friend and wondered if Adrien had done something to try and spite her.

“Everything alright,” he asked her.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she said, a chuckle escaping her. “This homework is the biggest bitch, though. I can’t seem to figure out these equations.” She sighed, rubbing circles around her temples, but at least she was calm. Nath was always a calming person to be around, after all.

Nathanaël looked at Élodie with loving eyes, his gaze moving all around from her eyes to her lips and to her hair.

Boy, was her hair exquisite.

With a hidden smile, he said to Élodie, “Your hair is nice. I like it. It would be interesting to draw, if you don't mind,” he looked down then back to her face, that small smile playing at the corners of his lips. Élodie blushed a bit and looked away.

  “Y-Yeah. No, I wouldn't mind. That sounds fun,” She smiled and immediately chided herself. As shy as she was around him at points, she would still have loved to stay in this moment for a while…

… But, of course, every moment ends.

***

Coincidentally enough that talk about Chloé was spreading throughout the classroom, the diva herself walks in to be, what she would call, fashionably late as usual. Her day would have gone by smoothly if it hadn’t have been for the two unacceptable things she noticed in her classroom.

Sabrina wasn’t in the room.

What was worse was that instead of walking in to see her sidekick, she saw this new face who shared a look similar to hers. She didn’t know what to make of this dreadful scene along with the new face and she utterly _despised_ the unknown. It made her feel vulnerable when she wanted to feel in control of everything at all times.

“Um. _Miss_ , where is _Sabrina_?” she whined.

The teacher ran a finger over the attendance sheet for the current class and replied, “I’m afraid your good friend is not with us today. She appears to have called in sick.”

“ _Sick_ ? But Sabrina is only sick when _I’m_ sick.” Chloé made fists of both her hands as they hung, stiff, to her sides. “This is an outrage!”

“Settle down, Miss Bourgeois.” The teacher was as calm as she was firm. “She’s not dead. She should be back when her illness has cleared up. In the meantime, why don’t you go introduce yourself to our newest pupil, over there in the back row. She’ll need to be filled in on what we’ve learned so far.’”

The soft whispers of the class immediately silenced themselves. If Chloé wasn’t already about to complain about taking a seat, much less interacting, with this apparent clone who was upstaging her, she would have raised a brow at this strange encounter.

Ezra, in the back, was the most shocked of all. She’d have to share her otherwise empty row for the first time in ages.

Chloé could have remained furious, had she not realized this was a perfect opportunity to mess with the new girl, finding her weak spots and hitting them _hard_. With a smile and a _humph_ she kept her chin up, making her way up to the back row and sitting next to Ezra who had moved down the row, sitting in front of Juleka, to make room for Chloé.

Chloé laid her elbow on the desk and rested her chin on her palm, looking at Ezra with a sly smile. Ezra stared, blankly, back at her, eyeing her from head to toe.

“So,” Chloé began, “You’re the new newbie, huh? Interesting. The last newbie we had here was foreign. She came all the way from Africa or whatever.”

“Cuba, you racist!” Élodie yelled from the other side of the room. It’s as if she could smell the foul talk a mile away. It was a good thing the class whispers were too loud for her yelling to matter, especially to Chloé. As much as Élodie could tolerate a joke, she couldn’t put up with anything running from Chloé’s mouth. Every time she walked in the room the same feeling of an unnerving blow rose within each student. All, except for Sabrina who worshipped her for reasons nobody, in their right mind, could understand.

“Right,” said Chloé, letting out one of her famous sarcastic laughs.

Ezra already could not _stand_ her.

“So, what’s your name, newbie?” Chloe twirled around her finger one of two locks of hair that she neglected to tie up with the rest of her own ponytail.

Ezra glanced at Rose, expecting her to be the one to blurt out her name, but Rose was facing the front, her arm in Juleka’s as she watched her doodle. Not even the most chipper of the class wanted to get involved when Chloé was around.

Her lips began to dry for as long as they were parted. After one hesitant moment she let Chloé open up the first page of the open book she was. “Ezra.”

For a moment, it was as if she tried holding back her laughter before it burst out, a short moment. “Ezra? Isn’t that a boy’s name? What, was your dad disappointed because he wanted a son and instead, he got.. _you_?” She skipped the first 3 bases and went straight for home, not even letting it build up. Just a name was all it took. A name was all she needed.

Ezra, for the first time, was choking back the words she wanted to speak rather than choosing not to say them at all. She stuttered and stammered, trying to come up with a good excuse, but could come up with nothing. This fueled Chloé even more. She laughed even louder, so loud it had almost seemed forced, so loud the teacher could almost hear her from the front through all the noise in the room. Not loud enough, however for Adrien to miss it.

“Oh my God, it _is_ true!” she slammed her hand on the desk and pointed to her. “You’re the family disappointment!”

Another hand slammed on the table, but it hadn’t been Chloé’s or even the teachers for that matter.

“That’s enough, Chloé!” said the voice of the slammed hand that had gotten in between Ezra, her rising anxiety, and Chloé’s unrelented bullying.

Ezra moved her eyes up the arm only to be struck by the look on Élodie’s face. She could see the rage burn up inside her like a furnace. Ezra’s newfound anxiety melted inside it. This surprised Élodie’s crowd, however. She usually wasn’t the type to step in the middle of any of Chloé’s heinous remarks, but after the racist stunt she pulled, Élodie grew infuriated enough to step in.

“What?” said Chloé, thrusting out an innocent smile. “I’m just pointing out the _obvious_ truth. No wonder you’re here in your little corner, shut out from everyone else, like the creepy _loner_ you are!” Her laugh rang in Ezra’s eardrum, pounding as if her chortle were a mallet.

Élodie grasped Chloé’s shoulder and yanked her away from facing Ezra so that she was now facing her. She pressed hard, bringing her face close. She wasn’t even thinking about Ezra at this point, if only just the thought of putting Chloé in her place for all the times she would taunt her about the color of her skin.

“Ow!” Chloé yelled in anguish. The class silenced once more, which brought the teacher’s attention from being invested in sorting her curriculum.

“Listen, here, you little-”

Screams were heard coming from outside the classroom before Élodie could utter another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Élodie is an OC made by the person I dedicated this story to; racheltheripper1997. For more on her story, go here -> http://archiveofourown.org/works/6014647/chapters/13803664 
> 
> The part where Ezra starts to come in takes place the middle of Chapter 3 of that fic so read it up! I guarantee it's a great read. I even used a couple of the lines from that fic to better connect the two stories (with the author's permission, of course). Obviously, it was written way before Ezra was even a thought in my head so she's not included in that story, but I am doing the best I can, collaborating with Rae, to make sense of how the two stories connect. So stay tuned, it only gets more juicy from here.


	4. Akuma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An akuma attack has broken out in the school. Ezra, quite literally, doesn't know what hit her. When the class rushes to check out the scene, Ezra is caught in the middle of it and it's up to Ladybug and Chat Noir (along with a new superhero) to save the day, along with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is JAM PACKED with action and is honestly, the most eventful chapter yet.

Élodie turned her head to look at Adrien, not loosening her grip on Chloé. He nodded to her and she nodded back. Neither Ezra nor Chloé knew what this meant, but the same would go for any of the other students if they had noticed. Élodie let go of Chloé, the force of her release throwing Chloé to the back of her seat.

“Miss,” called Élodie as she ran up to the teacher, “I left my… pet chameleon in the office when I went to get my tardy pass. Maybe that’s where the screams are coming from. I need to go and retrieve her!” It would be the biggest miracle if the teacher would buy that lame excuse.

“Yes! Yes, go and get it,” yelled out the teacher, pointing to the door as Élodie raced out without waiting for the teacher’s response.

Luckily, this teacher was as gullible as any.

As Élodie raced out the door, Adrien immediately stood up.

“Miss,” he said, looking as if he was trying to hold his bladder. “I know this is a bad time, but may I _please_ go to the bathroom? It’s an emergency!”

The teacher’s worried look turned to stressful expressions as she sighed. “Very well, Mr. Agreste. Maybe you can help Miss Beaumont capture her escaped pet as well.

“Thanks,” said Adrien, beaming out the door. Moments later, cries for help were heard.

“Oh, dear,” said the teacher. “Now class, this may seemed to have gotten a little more out of hand than originally anticipated, so if you could please remain in your seats and-”

But the curious students had already gotten out of their seats to see what the trouble was outside. Ezra was the last to follow, after Chloé. While everyone ran, Ezra and Nathanaël walked, not really much invested but just as curious. Their even pace made them walk alongside each other. Ezra was curious enough about him to indulge in a conversation with him as they made their way to the door.

“So what do you _really_ think is out there,” she asked him, wanting to believe there was more than just a mere harmless reptilian organism running around the school.

He carried his sketchbook, folded in his hands. After a certain incident that got him akumatized once, he kept it close to him at all times, clinging onto it like glue.

“What? Oh… I don’t know. I didn’t even know Élodie had a pet chameleon.” He appeared just as withdrawn as Juleka which made Ezra think there needed to be a change in Rose’s shipping chart. That thought turned into Ezra questioning why she was thinking about Rose’s shipping chart to begin with.

She eyed his sketchbook.

“So you like to draw, yes?”

He looked down to his sketchbook and glanced at her. “Yeah.. Everyone thinks it’s a ‘nice hobby,’ but it’s more than that to me. It’s my dream.. and my dreams come to reality... Élodie’s the only one who ever seemed to understand.”

“You keep talking about this Élodie.” Speaking her name for the first time gave Ezra goosebumps as well as uncontrollable butterflies in her stomach. She shook them off.

_What are these feelings?_

“So tell me, stranger,” she continued with only a slight, unnoticeable hesitance. “Who is she? I’ve been hearing a lot about her and am curious to know what all the fuss is about.”

Nathanaël really turned to look at her this time, perplexed at her straightforwardness. Before he could comment on it, the crowd completely eased through the door and the two made their way out as well, seeing not a chameleon, but a ballerina dressed in dark, haunting colours.

…. And also a chameleon.

Ezra watched as she teased the ballerina, going in and out of camouflage. She was as swift as she was headstrong, but Ezra hadn’t recognized this hero in doing her research. She figured this was either because she was, ever recently, new or hardly represented in the media. Either way, she was incredible.

Ezra was surprised to see the ballerina whip out a black wand with purple sparkles that followed its movement.

With a flick of her wand, the ballerina aimed it straight at Nathanaël. The purple sparkles left the wand and beamed in his direction. Ezra shoved him out of the way but wasn’t quick enough to dodge the hit. She was affected by the charm. She curtseyed and began to dance, but had no control of her movement.

“What in the _bloody_ hell is happening to me?!” Ezra exclaimed in English.

Oh, no. Foreigner alert.

Ezra tried ignoring the fact that she had just revealed herself to be not of this country, but tried to ignore all the stares that were drawn to her from her exclamation, even more, as well as trying to figure out what on Earth was happening to her. This was some form of hypnotist magic she had never before come in contact with, let alone knew was real.

Confused faces circled the crowd surrounding her. She had just spoken a language they couldn’t quite comprehend. She was also the only out of all of them dancing. The other victims were downstairs where Ezra wished she were, if only to get all the attention drawn away from her.

She started doing forms of ballet that stretched her legs way beyond her limit of flexibility. She felt trapped and tormented in an endless reign of torture. When she spun around, she grew more nauseous as the spinning accelerated. Suddenly, she was on her toes and was surprised that the pain didn’t cause her to tumble over.

She finally stopped spinning, feeling dizzy and sick to her stomach. In the moment of freedom she had, she fell back on the wall, her weakened knees still not letting her collapse. Gasps were heard from the crowd around her. Though disoriented, her blurred double-vision could make out a red and black polka dotted figure.

Ladybug had finally arrived to save the day.

That was all she saw before the uncontrollable urge to dance washed over her again. Ezra tried her best to fight it, but she felt too weak and exhausted to. She was pulled by the urge and taken to the edge of the second-floor in skips. She latched onto the fence to fight the urge to hop over, but again, she was weak and the urge caused her to flip herself over the fence, falling to her potential doom. Screams of terror from below were heard. There may have been some students downstairs who would have helped catch her, but they were overtaken by the urge that forced them to back away. The ballerina laughed when she got a glance of the girl falling off the edge.

 _So this is the way the world ends..._ _  
_ _Not with a bang… but with a.._

Ezra’s impulsive poetic thought process was interrupted when she felt a strong grip on her wrist and she opened her eyes to see herself being pulled into the arms of none other than Chat Noir himself, the cat in elastic armour.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I got your back.”

He tapped her back with the tips of his claws. He was literally carrying her weight from her back. Punning.

Ezra couldn’t help but burst into laughter. She didn’t know why she found a lame pun so funny, but it was better to make a joke out of a deadly situation than to have died at all.

Chat Noir glowed with contentment. That was the first time anyone had genuinely liked and acknowledged his famous punning and didn’t react in a way that seemed slightly sarcastic.

He put Ezra down somewhere hidden away from the ballerina and used his trusty baton to extend to where the chameleon heroine was. Thankfully, the effect the ballerina had on her wore off when she had fallen. Ezra finally let herself collapse, laying flat against a wall as she watched on at the battle.

A victim of the urge danced their way up to the chameleon but she was able to dodge them. Chat Noir said something Ezra couldn’t quite make out and watched as he backflipped out of the victim’s range and rolled away.

Ladybug looked unamused for some reason and almost got caught by a victim. The chameleon pulled her out of the way and winked at her. Chat Noir tried using his attacks on the ballerina, but to no avail.

He began dancing as well. Fear and worry spiked in Ezra, these feelings all relatively new to her. Though, the ballerina looked displeased and yelled, “That’s enough!”

She beamed toward him, not even trying to use her power on him. She was going for a full physical attack, but the chameleon got in the way. Ezra correlated every possible defense tactic the heroine could have used, and all except the invisibility came to play. Ezra wondered why the most effective power wasn’t being used. Suddenly, the chameleon got distracted when Ladybug flung her yoyo in the air and yelled, “Lucky Charm!” The ballerina took this opportunity to swing her flat-toed ballerina foot right into the heroine’s gut. She had gained the upperhand and the heroine fell. That wasn’t enough to stop her. She got back up, holding onto her rib-cage as she stood back up. That was when one of the victims found Ezra.

“I’m sorry,” said a brunette with a french braid, tears in her eyes, “she’s forcing me to do this.”

Ezra tried running in the opposite direction but the brunette victim was quick. She grabbed Ezra by her ponytail, dragging her out of the shadows and back into the open pavement where the ballerina would be able to zap her again with her wand. Ezra screamed in agony, not only at the pain of her hair being yanked, but also the residual soreness she felt from all that dancing she was forced into and the fact that she did not want to endure it again.

Being forced out of her concealment, Ezra looked around as much as her eyes would take her in the uncomfortable angle she was in. She saw the chameleon heroine fall back down, unconscious. Chat Noir was at her side. He looked just as worried and scared as Ezra felt, only that Ezra felt this because she was completely alone in this situation. She didn’t have anyone by her side, her own personal hero, a friend, a mate, a chum, anyone. There was no one, as it had always been and as she had to make herself grow comfortable with.

More terrorized screams were heard, louder than any of the screams in that day. All hell had broken loose. Ezra didn’t know how to process it. It was straight out of a comic book. A supervillain had endless power only the heroes everyone was rooting for had failed to save the day.

All but one.

Ladybug comes in with her own wand that had ribbons flowing from it with a design that matched her costume. She jumped and zipped over the ballerina, twirling the ribbons to wrap the villain up tight until the black wand she carried fell out of her hands and right in front of Ezra.

Now that the ballerina was no longer wielding her weapon, the brunette victim stopped in her place, letting go of Ezra’s ponytail. Suddenly Ezra heard Ladybug from afar as she hung by her yoyo from a railing above her, carrying the ballerina with her ribbon wand.

“The wand! Break it! Crush it! Now!”

Ezra looked down at the wand and hesitated. Endless power. At her grasp. She was ready to obtain its power.. to... hold it.

“What are you waiting for? Do it now!”

She snapped out of her enchantment to this weapon and crushed the wand with her foot, the thought of trying to grab it with her bare, empty hands fleeting from her mind instantly.

Emerging from the broken weapon came a butterfly with the same color scheme as the wand it rose from. Ezra watched as it fluttered away. It was beautiful. The color of it in itself was enchanting. She had never seen a butterfly with wings like that ever in her lifetime.

“No more evil doing for you little Akuma.”

Akuma?

Ezra turned to see Ladybug swinging her glowing yoyo that bounced from left to right and rose up for her to twirl it in her hand as she yelled out, “Time to de-evilize!”

The yoyo ate up the dark butterfly, killing Ezra a bit inside, and zipped back to Ladybug who grabbed it, saying, “Gotcha!”

Ezra was more confused as ever as to what she was seeing.

Ladybug released the butterfly, that was now completely white, as she said, “Bye-bye, little butterfly,” and threw the ribbon wand in the air.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

The ribbon wand disintegrated into flower-like particles that glided through the air, washing over all the mess caused from the incident and fixing it up. When it reached Ezra, she no longer felt the soreness and pain from being forced to dance. She felt more relieved than ever.

The screaming didn’t stop there, however. Chat Noir was still knelt over the fallen heroine. She hadn’t been healed enough to wake up.

“Get her to a hospital,” said Ladybug, calmly and sternly.

Chat Noir remained crying over her unconscious body, a beeping heard coming from her necklace.

“Now, Chat,” yelled Ladybug, firmly.

Chat Noir grabbed the chameleon and held her in his arms, stretching out his baton to slide down it from the edge and run out of the school, carrying her and not letting her go.

Ezra stood in the same place, stiffly, even though everyone else had dispersed. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the trio. She began to indulge into more emotions she had never before come to know in her entire livelihood as she saw Chat Noir leave with the fallen heroine. Before she could let it build up inside her bottled up brain any further, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Ladybug standing just inches from her face.

“You did a good job in helping me capture that Akuma.”

“A-Aku-what?” was all Ezra could iterate, still trying to process everything that had just happened since she came out of the classroom.

A chuckle came from Ladybug. “Don’t worry about it.” She zipped away as Ezra had seen her do before when she saw her on the apartment balcony.

“Oh, blimey,” said Ezra, placing her hand on her sweating forehead.

***

He was racing down the street, using his baton to gain leverage and stretch out up onto the roofs. Surprising, how his skinny arms could carry the weight of another human being, especially while stunting his way from roof to roof until he had finally reached the roof of the hospital.

“A-Adrien,” called out Chameleon, weakly, squinting her eyes open.

Chat Noir shushed her, ever gently, letting her close her eyes and fall unconscious again. “It’s okay, Élodie. Everything’s gonna be okay.” He pulled her in close, hugging her before he jumped onto the rooftop of the hospital. He checked to see if she was still breathing and was relieved to feel her breath tickling his ear.

Just then, Chameleon’s necklace had beeped its final beep and he concealed her from the city as she detransformed. His own Miraculous was beginning to do the same. He needed to hurry.

He made his way into the Emergency room, rushing his way to the front desk.

“Please help her,” he said to the woman at the front desk.

The woman sat there, eyes widened and shocked that Chat Noir brought a beaten up girl to her. She used the intercom on the phone. “Get the medics out here, now. Hurry.”

The medics came rushing out with a gurney and Chat Noir laid Élodie down on it. The medics placed a resuscitator over her mouth to help her breathe as they took her through the doors into a hospital room. “Please be okay, Elodie,” he muttered under his breath with worried eyes.

***

Days passed before Ezra saw Élodie in school again. After a day of wondering where she had been, she decided not to let herself worry about this girl she hardly knew and look to other sources of observation.

Ezra kept her seat in front of Juleka for she was more comfortable sitting there than in front of Rose and her endless, irritable conversation tactics. As many days as Élodie was absent for class, it gave Ezra enough of a will to screw all odds in waiting until Élodie’s return –  and find the will to converse with her –  to finally engage in a conversation with Juleka, who had peaked her interest.

She tapped her on the shoulder. Juleka turned to her.

“I’m quite keen of your outfit today,” Ezra told her. Since the day of the incident, everyone had already pinned her as the foreigner she was. As humiliating for Ezra as it was, no one else really seemed to care. Still, Ezra found it so, as she did, but decided, now that the cat was out of the bag, to speak in her usual English tone as much as her translation to French would allow.

“Um.. Thanks,” Juleka responded. She wasn’t much for talking to anyone aside from Rose, but she felt bad enough over the newbie – especially with how Chloé had treated her and the effect of the ballerina – to go with the flow.

“If I may ask, where do you obtain such fashion,” Ezra asked her.

“Well… I guess online, mostly.” Juleka appeared as timid as Ezra had depicted of her, but that still didn’t stop Juleka from holding the conversation as best she could. “France doesn’t really have many places with clothes I like, so I have them shipped from America.”

“America,” Ezra reiterated. She knew the culture was already unappealing in itself, but never had she thought they’d have such a unique sense of fashion. “Never been too fond of how things go over there. I’m almost glad I decided to come here, instead.”

“Almost?” Juleka closed her parted lips.

Ezra bit her lip. “Well.. yes… I’m sure you noticed what Chloé had said to me a few days ago, even when you weren’t trying to look.. along with.. what came after..” She was humiliated to admit it, as much as recalling what had happened, but thought she’d mention it anyway since it had already happened and practically everyone knew about it.

Juleka glanced over to see what Rose was doing and saw she was too invested in her classwork to take over the conversation. She sighed and cast her eyes downward. “Yeah. Everybody knows not to mess with Chloé. You haven’t necessarily been the first person she’s bullied. Believe me, if anyone knows what it’s like to deal with her, it’s me.” Juleka recalled the day of the class photo when she felt invisible because of Chloé, but Rose consoled her, even when everything went smoothly soon after, telling her it was Chloé’s fault and not hers.

Ezra was a bit enlightened to hear someone relate to her. Though she tried to withdraw herself and her emotions from people, she didn’t think about it as she listened on.

“I saw how you took a hit for Nath. I’ve only seen that brave a sacrifice when Chat Noir tries to protect Ladybug. It was very noble of you.”

So, someone aside from her also took an interest in the city’s heroes.

“Ah, yes, the bug and feline characters. So, you know what they’re like? Do you, perhaps, know of the purple butterfly that causes the villainous rampage I witnessed and was affected by?”

“Akumas? All anyone knows is that when Ladybug spots where it’s hidden, she breaks the source, captures it, and rids it of evil.”

“So, you know what it’s called.”

“I mean, she pretty much says it before she captures it if you haven’t already noticed.” Juleka chuckled between her words. She wasn’t as withdrawn from overall conversation as she usually was with everyone aside from Rose. There was just something about Ezra that made her easy to talk to.

“Yes.. I did..” Ezra still couldn’t stop thinking about being affected by the ballerina’s power. “I’ll admit, being forced to dance by that ballerina, almost made me regret pushing ‘Nath’ out of the way.” She paused and cast her eyes downward.

“Take it from someone who’s actually been turned into one of those villains”, Juleka said.

Ezra lifted her gaze back to Juleka. “You’ve actually experienced that kind of transformation?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘experienced’. I didn’t remember becoming one. I wouldn’t have ever known I did if it weren’t for Rose telling me what had happened and what I did.” Juleka paused and looked off to the side at all her classmates. “I hurt a lot of people.. or at least.. It kind of felt like I did.”

“Why do you say ‘kind of’?” Ezra had her hands rested on her closed fists as her elbows held them up. She didn’t remove her, fully attentive, gaze from Juleka.

Juleka glanced at her, then looked down again, shamefully and timidly. “My power wasn’t as bad as most have been. All I did was make other people look like me. That was nothing compared to others that I’ve seen, especially the monster Mylène turned into which wasn’t all that bad for me, if not totally cool, but more like hell compared to the rest.” She smiled when she mentioned her reaction to Mylène’s akumatization, but quickly shifted her melancholic expression back, after when thinking of what she was about to mention next. “She kept people in these little egg sacks or something. I wasn’t there when it happened, but Nino, over there, recorded pretty much everything.” She pointed with her thumb to the boy with orange headphones wrapped around his neck, sitting by the crowd Élodie affiliated with. “He gave me a copy of the film when he saw how much I enjoyed it.”

What she was about to say next was something she never thought she’d say, but she hadn’t spoken to anyone as much as she was currently speaking to Ezra, aside from Rose who she would confide in about everything.

“You.. and I… could watch it together sometime.. i-if you want. I was, actually, supposed to be the make up artist when they were shooting, using the original script.”

Ezra actually grinned. Her smile was exposed for the entire class to see. After 3 long years of not breaking even the slightest smirk since her first deuce score in tennis with her father, she was actually genuinely gleeful to be asked to do anything with someone, let alone holding a conversation with someone and _enjoying_ it. Her smile lingered as she said, “I’ve always held an interest in the macabre and _horrific_. I’d love to watch it with you, sometime.”

“ _Horrificator_ is, actually, the title of the film.” Juleka laughed, for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if you haven't already, refer to this fic to learn more about Élodie and her alter ego, Chameleon. -> http://archiveofourown.org/works/6014647/chapters/13803664 
> 
> I know it's been months since my last update, but I had undergone some things having to deal with the person I gifted this story to and we are no longer on speaking terms. After that, I sort of gave up because I didn't know how I was going to finish the story when her OC is involved in it. I decided I didn't want to leave the story incomplete, however, and leave Ezra's story untold so I have begun to continue working on Chapter 5 as you read this and will no longer be consulting Rae on the specific plot lines featuring her character. Élodie's character will now be portrayed from my perception of her and the information I have on her thus far. So stay tuned. It only gets better from here. - 12/31/2016


	5. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Adrien decides to do the kind thing and make friends with the new girl, Ezra is unamused but that doesn't stop Marinette from catching her and warning her not to get too close. Annoyed as she persists, Ezra thinks up the perfect thing to do to spite her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, an update! I mean it's only been what over a year?? Finally was able to cut through that block that was holding me back for so long. I guess enough determination to get this story over with already was enough motivation to inspire me. Enjoy and welcome back to the story! We now resume your regularly scheduled broadcast. As promised, I will update regularly and hopefully have the entire story done before S2 premieres.

Being Chat Noir, as pleasing as it was to fight alongside the love of his life, was an exhausting job that ate up most of Adrien’s class time. He even had to just miss the entire 2nd block and only make it halfway in time for lunch. How he was able to wheel his way with excuses through that one was beyond him.

Searching the lunch area, he looked around for the only guy wearing glasses and a red cap with his orange headphones on, bobbing his head back and forth to what he called his “sick jams”.

And there Nino was, bringing his vision forward to spot Adrien waving to get his attention. Nino removed his headphones from his concealed ears, letting them hang around his neck as he waved back at his best friend. 

Adrien approached Nino with a smile. 

“Broheim,” Nino called out.

“Hi, Nino,” said Adrien, firmly, taking his seat. 

“You alright, man? You totally spaced on Biology just now. Good thing, too. They made us dissect a fetal pig.  _ Sooo _ not vibin’, man!”

Adrien scratched the back of his head. “What? Gross.” An awkward chuckle escaped him. “No, I was just uh…” He tried coming up with an excuse, but the thought of  Élodie having just come from being battered, bruised, unconscious overnight in the hospital for hours on end along with learning of Ladybug’s true identity, clouded the place where his excuses usually sprouted from. He tried moving his attention somewhere else, darting his eyes around the plaza. He found himself meeting eyes with the uncanny Chloé look-alike. Noticing she was already staring at him when he saw her, he, awkwardly, looked away and back to Nino with widened eyes.

“‘Sup,” asked Nino. “You seem tense, dude. What’s happening?”

Adrien blinked his way to a relaxed look, finding his excuse. “So, what do you think of that new girl over there? The one that kinda looks like Chloé.”

Nino raised a brow and blew out a long, contemplative breath. “I don’t know, dude. She’s alright, y’know, but she’s not my kind of crowd.” This surprised even Nino himself. He was usually open to meeting new people and making new friends, but something about this new girl threw him off for some reason. She seemed to throw everyone off. 

“Really? Didn’t think you had much of a ‘crowd’.” Adrien held a smug look on his face. 

Nino looked as his friend started to smile at him. He knew where he was getting with this. “Oh, boy.”

“You know, she doesn’t seem to have a crowd, herself,” Adrien said. “Why don’t we introduce ourselves, make sure she feels welcome to  _ any  _ crowd?” The smug grin he had plastered on his face made Nino feel uneasy. Sometimes Adrien was too nice for his own good.

As reluctant as ever, Nino bit his lip and looked over to the newbie. She had pulled out a sandwich from her lunch bag and proceeded to stare at it, momentarily, before taking a bite into it and pausing before going back to writing in her journal. What was she doing? Boy, was she unusual. 

Nino looked back to Adrien. As reluctant as he was, he would do anything for his buddy if it made him happy. “Well, alright then, brother. Let’s go sit with the newbie.” Nino and Adrien proceeded to move from their table, approaching Ezra and the table where she had contentedly been sitting, alone.

Ezra kept a brow raised as she saw the two boys approach her table. These were the same two boys she had seen passing notes with Élodie the other day. The fact that these two boys in particular decided to approach her when they had also happened to be passing notes lead to signify that the notes must have been about her. She  _ was  _ the new girl after all and they  _ were  _ a part of Marinette’s group and Marinette  _ did  _ have a good enough reason to be talking about the new obscure girl she was going to be working with. Ezra believed she had every right to be suspicious. They would have no reason to sit with her otherwise.

“Sup, newbie. I’m Nino,” he said, raising out a hand to her. Not unlike Marinette at the bakery, she left him hanging while she looked from his reached out hand up to his eyes and Nino, awkwardly, retreated his hand as he took his seat facing her left on the square lunch table. Adrien took his, across from Ezra.

“I’m Adrien, but I’m sure you already knew that.” Adrien scratched the back of his head, bashfully, again. 

Ezra blinked and slightly shook her head, furrowing her brows. “Why would I know that?”

Nino nudged Adrien with his knee from under the table and whispered to him, concealing his mouth from Ezra, “Dude, she’s not from here, duh.”

Something pricked in the back of Ezra’s neck. She could hear what he was saying and she was not comfortable in the slightest.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” said Adrien. “My dad is the head of a fashion agency. He makes me model most of his designs. I’m pretty well known around here for that. Heh.” There is a slightly awkward pause when he sees Ezra blink with indifference in her look. Even though she came across the mention of a fashion agency under a Gabriel Agreste, she couldn’t care less about him or his works.

“So..” he continues, still trying to save the awkward moments that were ensuing. “Where are you from, then?” 

Ezra recalled the day she had been hit with the power from the wand and revealed herself for the foreigner she was and really wished she wasn’t. Even if no one had paid any attention to the teacher when she had announced it herself, people surely knew now. Apparently, Adrien hadn’t been present for that. He was the only one who seemed to not know she was what she considered a “true outsider” until now. He, unlike Nino, didn’t have the potential to belittle her on that until now. She had no choice now. Now was the time to engage in the social world, talk about herself to others, make conversation, although she’d rather be staying social to herself, writing in her journal.

“I’m.. from London… England.. in the UK..” She took a bite from her sandwich, the gooey brie that was in it, extending like taffy so it hung out, making the sandwich itself begin to fall apart. “Bullocks,” she muttered in English, putting down the sandwich and writing some more in her journal. For some reason, Adrien and Nino could only stare at her as this happened and did not engage the conversation until she began to write again.

“That’s.. Nice..” said Nino. He could tell she was kept to herself and completely antisocial, reminding her a bit of Juleka, but at least Juleka put in some effort to make conversation, even if it wasn’t in complete worded sentences. “So,” he continued, “what are you writing about in there?”

“Oh,” said Ezra, looking back down at her journal. In all the times, throughout all the journals she kept in her life, not once had anyone ever asked her about what she wrote in them. 

“I… usually write poetry,” she said, “but I also like to list specific details in my day. Right now I’m critiquing this sandwich. It helps me define specific tastes or textures I like or dislike so I can better my diet to one I fancy.” She looked back down to her journal, focusing on the details of it in itself. The fuzzy leather cover and the brown recycled paper used to make its pages. The things she loved to write in it. “That’s the thing about recording the things that go on in your life,” she continued. “Eventually, you see the pattern of your mistakes and can focus on fixing them as you read them back. Then you can record your improvements and start over until it resolves itself, I assume.” By the time she could fathom how lost she had gotten in her own thoughts and that she was saying them aloud to complete strangers, she saw what seemed to her as a bemused expression in both their faces as they were both pondering their response to the depth of her words, too complex for the lunch table. 

Ezra shrugged. “It's the writer in me, I suppose.”

Adrien, furrowed brows relaxed, nodded. As it turned out, he actually knew what she was talking about and was genuinely intrigued by it.  “I think it's great how you use your passion to benefit your everyday life.” 

His smile, genuine as it was, surprised Ezra. 

“Yeah. Super radical,” said Nino, nodding, his smile seeming ingenuine, but Ezra couldn't tell if that was just his personality. 

Suddenly, a sound of disgust came from Adrien as he held his nostrils shut, pulling out a round wooden package. The smell didn’t seem to bother Ezra or Nino. In fact, it was almost alluring to her. “What is that,” she asked.

“ _ Ugh _ . Probably one of the worst things to ever disgrace the planet. I can’t stand the smell.”  Adrien felt he had to pull it out of his bag to prevent the rest of his lunch from getting spoiled with its ungodly scent.

“It’s just Camembert.” A laugh escaped Nino. “It never ends with him.”

“Then why carry it in your bag to begin with,” asked Ezra.

As Adrien began to stammer, Nino leaned toward Ezra, saying, “It’s beyond all of us at this point.”

“I don’t make my lunches,” said Adrien, as swiftly as he could to save the moment. “My dad has his assistant Nathalie pack the lunches for me.”

Raising a brow in suspicion, Ezra looked back down at the cheese and said, “Okay. So why are there bite marks taken out of it, then?”

Clever as she was, Adrien was finally out of excuses. “Why don't you try a piece,” he asked her, pulling off a piece of the Camembert and holding it out to her. “I've seen you eyeing it.” All he could do now was avoid anymore questions. 

“Um.. Sure,” Ezra responded, accepting the offering. Taking another whiff of the cheese, she realized there was actually not that much of a smell to it when exposed to air. She took a bite. 

The texture in itself was exquisite, a hard shell outside to keep it soft and gooey inside. Not to mention the flavour was impeccable. It was just like brie, if not better. She devoured the rest of the little piece she had, inhaling deeply through her nose. She loved it. 

Still chewing, ever so slowly to savor it, her instinct was to immediately jot down the details of its incomparable taste in her daily journal. When she was done, she looked back up at the two who had been staring at her as she got lost in her thoughts, once again, as well as the cheese. 

With a blink, Ezra swallowed the piece of Camembert she still had in her mouth and that was it; the delicacy was gone. She licked her chapped lips. “Could I try another piece,” she asked, unabashedly.

Suddenly, an awkward silence spread throughout the table when a voice was heard coming from Adrien’s bookbag. “Not  _ my  _ sweet gooeyness,” said the voice.

Ezra and Nino both eyed the bag. Ezra opened her mouth to speak but, before any words could come out, Adrien blurted out one of his famous last-minute excuses. 

“My phone must have started playing by itself again,” he said. 

Before anyone else could question the moment, the bell rang. Lunchtime was over. 

“Gotta run,” Adrien said with an awkward smile and took his things as he himself took off, leaving the Camembert on the table. 

Nino, shaking his head, finished digging into his own lunch. “Always forgetting to eat,” he said with his mouth full. “You know what’s funny?” He swallowed the last of his lunch. “In all the time I’ve known him, he’s rarely ever brought his own lunch. He wants to be like an average student, or whatever, who gets his lunch from school.” He shrugged. “Either that or he forgets.”

Ezra looked from Nino to Adrien, watching on as he is stopped by Élodie who was back in school again, her face bruised and bandaged. Ezra had not seen her since the day she came in between Chloé and her excessive bashing on the new girl. Though the bruises and bandages left room for concern, a spark of excitement lit up inside of her when she saw her again for some reason. She was stunned and Élodie looked stunning, even in her beaten up state. 

Élodie was seen giving Adrien some lunch she had brought for him. Evidently, she, too, noticed he’d gone through the lunch period without having eaten anything. 

Ezra’s attention drifted back to Adrien as she had noticed the Camembert he left was still there. She turned her head to Nino who was packing his things. 

“Is he always this jumpy,” she asked him.

“On occasion,” he replied. “Never seen him this nervous before, though. He must like you.” He grabbed his bookbag and headed off to class.

Ezra looked back to Adrien as he went to class with Élodie, eating the food she gave him. She scoffed at Nino’s statement, her cheeks staying their natural pale tint, and headed off to class as well, taking the rest of the Camembert with her. 

Before she could get very far, Marinette appeared before her, stopping her in her place.

“I see you’ve gotten to know Adrien,” she said. 

Ezra could only pause for a moment with raised brows before saying, “Right you are,” and began to walk away, but Marinette blocked her.

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable with him,” she said. “He’s not exactly into the shy and reserved type. I should know.”

Ezra turned her head and smiled at Marinette. The stench of jealousy emanated vastly into her nostrils, as well as a hint of insecurity. It didn’t take someone like Ezra, who was very observant, to sense it.

“I know you,” she said, pointing at her. “You're the girl who gave me the macarons. You're gonna be my co-worker.” 

Marinette blinked as she continued to glare at Ezra. 

“Look,” Ezra continued. “Little, privileged boys like Adrien are the least of my concerns at the moment. I wouldn't worry about it. There’s no need to get jealous, honestly. He was just being nice to me is all. I would say I probably even deserve it after everything I’ve endured with that.. Akuma, I want to say-”

“The Akuma is what creates the villain,” Marinette interrupted before Ezra could take another breath. “The villains themselves are the victim of the Akuma. Everyone knows that.” Even though it may not have been completely true, she had to assert her dominance in the situation somehow. 

Ezra scoffed, knowing she wouldn’t get anywhere trying to explain her relationship with Adrien, in which there was no relationship at all. She began to try and walk away again, but Marinette was persistent with her petty stature; she had to act quickly. 

“I could have you fired in a second, you know? My family owns the bakery. So I’d watch the way you speak to me.” Marinette smirked at the fire she saw that rose within Ezra.

“On what reasonable grounds and with what authority?” Ezra felt a rise in her voice. Her cheeks felt hot against her skin. If it’s one thing she wasn’t going to let anyone trifle with it was her source for income. No way was she to return, crawling back to her dysfunctional family so soon. 

Marinette’s curled lips ceased to falter. “I could just as easily tell my dad that you make me uncomfortable in the workplace.” She crossed her arms. “It wouldn’t take much to convince him as to why, either.” 

“I  certainly wouldn’t doubt it with those pigtails, princess,” Ezra retaliated, showing no concern towards Marinette’s petty threat. She swerved her way around and proceeded to head to class as Marinette walked alongside her, following her with a grimace to the class they both shared with everyone else. 

Adrien, being near the front of the class was the first thing that caught the attention of both Ezra and Marinette, but for two completely different reasons, however. Adrien is always the first thing Marinette notices when entering the room. With Ezra, however, due to her keenly observant nature, she found Adrien’s outspoken tone of voice hard to ignore. 

Adrien noticed after the bell had rung that there was still an empty seat next to him where Nino should have been. He turned to Alya. 

“Have you seen Nino?” he asked. “I was just having lunch with him and he disappeared on me.”

Alya had been looking through her phone and found a moment from her consistent blogging to check through her messages with Nino. 

“Says he has to finish working on that biology project since you spaced out on him,” she responded. “He got permission to leave this period and work on it there.”

“Alright, class,” said the teacher before Alya could put another word out or Adrien another thought on the matter. “Today we’re going to review the concepts of the ‘Squeeze Principle’ to get you prepared for this following semester.”

“Ha! He's lucky, too,” continued Alya. “Those dumb sins and cos symbols are so confusing.”

Ezra hadn't even reached her seat before a sly smile escaped her and the little light bulb in her head shone bright. Marinette continued to eye her, but was utterly oblivious to what she might have been thinking. Before she could question her pondering countenance, she saw Ezra make her way up to the empty seat. 

The hairs on the back of Marinette’s neck stood, stiffly. 

“Would you mind if I took this seat, today? It's easier for me to take notes,” Ezra asked Adrien, pointing at the empty seat so Marinette could see exactly what she was doing. 

“I don't mind at all,” said Adrien. “I know Rose can go on like a running motor sometimes.” He let a chuckle slip. Ezra smiled, contentedly and looked back to Marinette, her hazel eyes piercing through her like a dagger. Marinette went to her seat, stunned and enraged. 

Without hesitation, Ezra took her seat and immediately made her move while the teacher was writing down problems on the board for students to take notes with. 

She took out her notebook and tore of a piece from the edge of a page, writing something down and tossing it on top of Adrien's math notes as he was writing. Marinette watched on, her face turning a deep shade of crimson. Little  _ papillons _ formed in Ezra’s stomach, widening her sly grin.

Adrien laughed at one of the notes passed to him. Marinette pressed her pencil hard onto her notebook as she intensely jotted down her notes. 

The whispers grew once the teacher had the students working on textbook problems as she had to step out for a moment. This gave Ezra the perfect chance to turn to Adrien and engage in a conversation she sought in for Marinette’s ears, specifically.

“I wanted to thank you,” said Ezra, “for keeping me company during the lunch period, earlier.” Although, it may not have been all that genuine. Ezra enjoyed her space and would have been just fine on her own at lunch, but she kept sneaking glances at Marinette to see if she was listening. 

Adrien turned his head and stopped on the problem he was working on to give his full attention to Ezra. 

Ezra continued. “You seem like rather nice company. I would very much like us to chat again sometime over lunch, outside of school. Maybe this weekend? We could also go over these notes together if you’d like.”

That was when Marinette turned her head to look.

“Sure,” replied Adrien. “How's Saturday?”

She could feel her pulse pumping through the veins on her neck. Marinette’s vision blurred and her lips tightened.

It was all over when Ezra let out one final grin. “Sounds wonderful. Shall I say 3pm at the park?”

 

***

“So if you carry the one and divide these two then it should give you the answer right there.” 

“And f(x) would equal…”

They both sat on the park bench, binders on their laps while one of their notebooks, containing the notes that were taken in class, sat directly in the open space of the bench, between them. Being two bright, intellectual students who paid attention in class, the work was something they breezed through so easily that they began to engage in small talk in between mathematical problems.

“Is the work usually this easy for you,” Ezra asked, surprised to be so comfortable shifting directly into a conversation. 

Adrien replied, “It’s obviously better when you’re working with someone else, but Nino gives me a hard time for the most part. I’ve never actually breezed through my work so easily like this before, especially not when working with someone else.” He cracked a shy smile. Ezra caught it. She smiled a bit as well.

“Yes,” said Ezra. “I do admit that working with others does have a bright side to it.” 

“What do you mean by that,” asked Adrien.

Ezra paused, biting her lip. She didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

It was too late to take it back now.

“To be frank, I never really saw myself working well with others. Socializing is not necessarily my strong suit.”

Adrien had to chuckle. “I figured from the way you were at lunch.”

Ezra blushed, her face getting hot. She suddenly drew away from comfort, but recollected herself, quickly, shifting her tone in saying,. “I could say the same thing about  _ your  _ behaviour at the lunch table, with all due respect.”

Adrien raised his brows, stunned at Ezra’s strong will. He had to respect that. “Touché,” he responded.  

Ezra threw one of her famous scoffs. “You’re actually quite better than the rest, Agreste, if I do say so myself,” and she meant it. For once, she was actually enjoying someone else’s company. Little did she except it to be with a fellow rich kid who turned out not to be what she thought. She had met wealthy adolescents before ; models, entrepreneurs, the works. Not once did she think she’d find one who was as genuine as Adrien was turning out to be. 

Adrien began to laugh, responding with, “You’re not so bad yourself, Miss Hawthorne.” 

She hadn’t heard her name addressed in that way since the maid in her family’s mansion had spoken to her. Though, she wanted to feel thrown off by it, she couldn’t help but laugh with him. 

That was when she had noticed a familiar pigtailed figure peek out from behind a tree. The figure retreated back into hiding when noticing it had been spotted. Ezra peered at the tree.

“I do apologize in concluding this rendezvous early, kind Adrien, but I really must be going now.” She put her things away and left him with his notebook laid next to him and his binder on his lap. She stood up, arm in one strap, and said, “I pray you’ll be able to survive the last few problems without me.” She threw him a wink. He smiled and winked back, “You know it, Ezra,” he replied. 

Ezra half-smiled and sped away quickly. Adrien had immediately gone back to his work so he didn’t see her moving towards the far off tree to find Marinette crouched below, trying to conceal herself even more behind some bushes that surrounded the tree. Ezra looked down upon her. 

“What, on Earth, is the meaning of this,” said Ezra, forgetting why she’d asked Adrien out to begin with. 

Marinette was frozen in place for a moment. She darted her eyes to from side to side then looked back up at Ezra. She stood tall. “Nothing!  I-I-I...” she stammered.

Ezra sighed. “Look, I know what you may think about this, but may I just say that you have absolutely nothing to worry about between me and him.” She bobbed her head toward Adrien who was still focused on his homework.

Marinette simply stared at Ezra with a wrinkle on her forehead, hiding a concerned look. She blinked once. Twice. Didn’t say a word.

Rolling her eyes, Ezra said, “Whatever. Listen, I’ll promise to let this go and say or think nothing more of it if you promise to keep it professional in the workplace. Deal?” Ezra extended her arm to Marinette. 

Marinette looked down at her hand, then back up at her, smiled, and walked away. 

 

Ezra, left to herself, sighed once more and muttered, “Well, I guess I deserved that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was a little uneventful and slow but trust me when I say it was indeed necessary and to stay tuned for the next chapter because things are gonna get juicy!!


	6. Deuce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette keeps giving Ezra a hard time at work. Ezra gets fed up when she takes it too far and leaves work early to go clear her head. She tries to relax at the park but frustrated thoughts start to pile up so she decides to use tennis as an outlet. When that doesn't work out, nothing can prevent what comes next...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot! Two in a row!  
> I figured, as slow as the previous chapter was, that you'd be craving more action so here it is! Get ready..

_That’s not where it goes!”_

_“You’re not supposed to do it like that!”_

_“Hey, you need to lock eyes with the customer when you take their order. Makes them feel comfortable.”_

 

Not a moment of peace could go by for Ezra without Marinette constantly correcting her on her work ethics. Working at a bakery was supposed to be a simple job, that’s why Tom had hired her, but with Marinette constantly on her back for everything, being Ezra Hawthorne working for Marinette Dupain-Cheng was made out to be one of the most difficult positions in this line of work.

When Ezra thought she had a moment alone, she noticed what a mess the place had become and decided to tidy up a little. If it’s one peeve she could hardly tolerate, it was a messy room. She swept the floor and took a deep breath. Finally, some peace. Though it wasn’t until she made her way to the bread that she, again, heard that piercing, shrill voice in her ear again.

“That’s not how you sort the breads, Ezra!”

Ezra, loaf in hand, clenches her teeth and squeezes the bread as it crunches in her hand. She ignored the burning heat as it steamed through the fluffy white inside. “Maybe this...,” she dropped the loaf, unevenly, where she held it, “... is where _I_ think it should go. Maybe it looks better this way.”

Marinette, sarcasm in her expression, widens her eyes with her mouth agape and her hand to her chest. “Why, Miss Hawthorne, are you giving attitude to _me_ , your superior? I should have you know that kind of behaviour doesn’t stand in this line of work.”

She had been poking into the coals of the fire that had burned greater in the furnace that lied deep within Ezra. “I’m sorry, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Would a _stalker_ know a better way to go about it?”

She stepped back and gestured toward the bread. “By all means, show me how it’s done.” Though, not the best comeback, she had not a care left in the world as her rage could only grow from this point.

Marinette, now showing a genuine offended expression hidden behind laughter, could only retaliate by saying, “Look who’s talking, Miss always-to-herself, Miss writing-in-her-journal-all-the-time-while-looking-around-the-classroom. What, do you write about _everyone_ in the classroom? You observe their each an every little twitch? You list down their quirks? Look in the mirror. If anything _you’re_ the stalker in all this.” She pointed to her. Ezra moved her eyes down to her finger. “All I did was stroll through the park one day and you just _happened_ to find me hiding away in the bushes. For all you know I could have been playing hide-and-seek with my cousin who I babysit sometimes.”

“Alright, now listen here-”

“You think _I’m_ the one with a problem? You can ask anyone in class, or anyone who’s seen you at the lunch table for that matter. No one thinks you’re not up to something.” Marinette drew her face closer and closer to Ezra’s while Ezra furrowed her brows, stunned. “Just admit that you are already and save everyone the tension.”

Ezra kept trying to get a word in but Marinette didn’t stop. She couldn’t help but begin to chuckle the next few words out.

“Y-ha-You think _Adrien_ doesn’t believe that, too? Even _he_ said you’re like a Chloe #2, but much more sinister because of your tendency to be stuck in the sidelines.” She may have made that last part up.

Regardless, what she said had struck Ezra and actually hurt a little. Just when she thought she might have had an actual chance to fit in and make a friend or two, for once, it all suddenly was beginning to fall apart. She wondered why she cared so much, but that didn’t stop the pain from seeping through.

Ezra was able to channel that pain into anger by saying, “You must be completely cross, _ya minger_ , if you think Adrien would even bat his eye in the direction of a _psychopath_ like you! Maybe you know that too and that’s why you never got him to notice you.”

“I could have you fired just for saying that.”

“Then _fire_ me,” Ezra mimicked her in a prissy tone, “since you seem to be so inclined.” Ezra said nothing more and went to the counter where she had left a note to Tom saying she needed to clock out early. She did just that and left the scene before Marinette could say or do anything about it.

 

All Ezra could think to do after that was try and clear her head at the park, nearby. She found the first bench she could sit and relax on, then pulled out her journal. Still too riled up with emotions from the bakery, she couldn’t focus on what to fill her journal with for the first time ever in her existence. Holding back tears, she brought her head down to her journal, took in a deep breath and lifted herself back up before slamming the journal right next to her.

She wiped whatever tears had formed from her eyes and removed her ponytail, looking out into the distance. Although she had too much going on in her head to think, her mind was flowing with an endless sea of creative flow. The flow showed that she was stronger than her emotions. It showed that she would remove her ponytail sometimes to free herself of the societal restraints that held her down.

There was a comfort in feeling the wind blowing her hair over her face. There was a comfort in watching and observing the life going on around her for when she felt alone in this world, she knew exactly how much that wasn’t true when she saw the world in motion; the cars moving, the trees swaying, people walking down the street, on the phone, on a jog, in a rush. There was even comfort in the man who had been working community service and sook joy in using a trash pick to remove the litter from the park which certain teens would take advantage of and throw litter his way as he yelled, “I got it!” Movement was her only comfort in times such as these. Movement is what kept her at bay.

She let out a deep sigh, running her hands down her face and stopping where it covered her nose and mouth. She turned her head back to her journal where the pages had been blowing back and forth with the wind. The book had stayed open to the page that described Ezra’s conspiracy theory that connected the petty girl she worked for at the bakery to the acclaimed hero of Paris.

“If she really is what I believe her to be,” she mumbled to herself, “then what kind of a hero treats someone in such a way that she does toward me?” Though it had been written in her journal with such passion in the heat of the moment, the reality of it was that Ezra could care less about this theory. To her, it was just a crazy thought, however, it had been more comforting for her to stay with that theory rather than putting hope and belief into a false idol. Her father had taught her better than that.

Underneath the journal, she had noticed that this week’s edition of the newspaper that had a picture of the dastardly girl who had picked on her in class days ago.

 

***

As she was cleaning up the crunched up baguette from the unorganized pile made by Ezra, Marinette continued to finish up the rest of the work Ezra was meant to complete. Enraged and fixated on her pettifogging, the frustration of having to clean up the mess of someone she grew to despise was the last thing she wanted to do, especially when they were messing with the one she loved. When it was certain she was alone and no one would come by for the moment, Tikki swooped her way out of Marinette’s pocket to console her as she does.

“You know, you didn’t have to be so harsh with her, Marinette. Remember what happened with Lila?”

Though she did recall a time when she may have taken it too far with Lila, Marinette saw massive differences between her and Ezra. She didn’t see her irrationalities where they stood this time.

“Lila was a _whole_ different ball game, Tikki. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into. Ezra knew _exactly_ what she was doing when she asked Adrien out to spite me.”

“You’re really gonna let something like that get to you so much that you had to act out against her? You’re better than that Marinette. You’re the incomparable and heroic Miraculous Ladybug, and even if she _was_ out to get you... even Adrien would say she didn’t deserve what you were giving her.”

Tikki knew right where to hit her, but she was right. Marinette was no better than Chloé if she made someone feel terrible for no good reason. Immediate bouts of regret and remorse had overtaken her. She knew she had no reason to say or do what she had done, especially since there’s no chance of the worst ever happening now that Adrien knows who she really is. She had suddenly seen where she had gone wrong and she felt like pure garbage for it.

“Oh, Tikki, what do I do?” she exclaimed. “There’s no _way_ she’s going to forgive me now! All those things I said…”

Like the reassuring being of light she was, Tikki placed her stubby little hand on Marinette’s cheek and said, “It’ll be okay, Marinette. You just need to speak from the heart. Make it sound genuine. _Be_ genuine. A girl as observant as Ezra will surely be able to see that and understand where you’re coming from.”

Marinette suddenly felt at ease, comforted by Tikki’s encouraging words. She couldn’t have asked for a better friend in her life, aside from Alya, of course.

“Tikki, you always know what to say.” She hugged the little kwami using her hand. With a laugh and a twirl, Tikki said, “Now let’s go apologize to Ezra.”

 

***

Ezra pulled out the newspaper from underneath her journal and saw that it had read:

 

**“Mayor’s daughter, Chloé Bourgeois, donates to the Local Charity Foundation to help those in need.”**

 

Anyone who had known Chloé (or even met her just once at that) knew that she wouldn’t have done something like this unless it was for the publicity.

“Great, so now she’s the mayor’s daughter as well,” said Ezra. “No wonder she seems so spoiled.”

Her grip tightened on the paper and her face grew hot. She hadn’t felt such hatred for another individual human being in her life since London with her father. She began to think of her father and mother, how they hadn’t been much different than Chloé or Marinette. One rageful thought piled up on top of the other. Suddenly every little thing ticked her off; the children playing in the background, the howling of the wind in her ear, the cars moving, the world in motion, the teens throwing the litter and the man shouting, “I got it,” before happily picking it up. She knew if Chloé had deserved anything in her life it would be to get a taste of her own medicine, which she probably had not yet gotten considering how quick the students in the classroom had been to turn away at her mere presence. Before she could remember Élodie or the way she stood up to the bully, Ezra felt a hand place itself, ever so gently, on her shoulder.

“Believe me, you’re not her first victim.”

Ezra turned her head, not letting her contempted expression falter one bit, to see none other than the girl who had created the wall of rage that had blocked her from writing in her journal to begin with.

With an innocent look on her face that Ezra was certainly not quick to buy, Marinette spoke again.

“You didn’t deserve the way she was treating you… and you certainly didn’t deserve the way _I_ had just treated you.”

Ezra blinked, her expression unchanging, as genuine as Marinette may have actually seemed.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for giving you such a hard time at work. I know it’s a lot, being the new kid in an entirely new world, and the way I was acting wasn’t really helping that.”

Ezra looked back down to the newspaper, crumpled it up and threw it behind her before the man working community service shouted, “I got it!” and went to pick it up. She jerked her shoulder away from Marinette’s hand. What did _she_ know about being an outsider?

“I hope you can-”

“You hit a nerve, Marinette,” Ezra interrupted. “That’s something a few petty words aren’t going to fix. In fact,” she stood up from her seat. “Nothing you say right now is going to fix this.” That was all she needed to say before grabbing her journal and satchel.

“Ezra-”

“I’ll see you at work, Marinette. _Try_ to go a little easy on me next time. I work hard enough.” Before another word could be said between the two, Ezra stuffed her journal in her satchel and fled the scene, leaving a sighing Marinette where she sat.

“At least I tried,” said Marinette with an elbow resting on her leg and her head resting on her hand.

 

In an effort to try and calm her rage, Ezra had made her way to the nearest tennis court she could find. It was about time she did, too. She hadn’t swung that racket around since the last time she had been challenged by her father. To find one that would allow her to practice with a wall was another mission entirely, but thanks to the help of smartphones, she knew just where to go.

She was determined to improve in her craft, now more than ever. No longer would she be stuck in a deuce score. She was in it to win it and she wouldn’t rest until she had.

Playing against a wall, however, had made a much bigger difference than playing with a person. For one the range was wider when she’d play against her father, which had made it a whole lot easier for her to expand her throws. Even so, she wasn’t going to let that trouble her.

Fortunately, it had been going smoothly, actually way better than it would have been with her father who would always strike the ball with force, throwing Ezra off-guard. With the wall, she had the chance of hitting the ball without the anxiety that it would hit her back twice as hard, making her craft one she could genuinely enjoy rather than focus on perfecting.

It was at this very moment that she knew she really enjoyed playing the sport and would hope to perfect it so one day she might even be able to play against the big leagues. _That_ would show her father.

_Father…_

She had suddenly found herself clouded with a wave of darkness that had swooped over and all around her. She continued to hit the ball but not even the craft was preventing the racing thoughts from building up in her brain. She began to feel overwhelmed and was thrown off in her game. One whole minute of genuine contentment was no match for 10 more minutes of failure. Suddenly, she was back where she started, over and over again, and the rage inside her had only left to be brought back again by continuous amounts of slip-ups and continuous recollections of what had enraged her from the start.

She grew so frustrated, she started hitting the ball harder and soon enough, it backfired onto her, hitting her directly in the face.

Ezra drew back a few steps and was so thrown from the hit that it made her dizzy and she collapsed to the ground on her rear. She rubbed her cheekbone where the ball had hit her and saw it placed right in between where her legs were spread open as if the inanimate object itself was looking up at her and telling her that she just would never be good enough. In a fit of rage, Ezra grabbed the ball and threw it to the wall, screaming at the top of her lungs. Luckily, it didn’t backfire onto her again. She seized the opportunity to burst into tears as she buried her face in her knees.

_“A true lady doesn’t show her tears, Denise.”_

_“A proper lady doesn’t fuss or throw a tantrum!”_

_“A man wouldn’t show such signs of weakness, Ezra.”_

_“Don’t worry. I got your back.”_

Ezra’s sobbing had stopped. One tone of voice was not like the other. Out of all the scolding and disappointment she had received in her life, there had been only one who was able to bring pure joy in her and make her laugh for the first time. She brought her head up. Maybe things didn’t have to be so bad after a-

Oh shit, what was that?!

Ezra saw what seemed as a dark, purple butterfly makes its way closer to her. Its design was enchanting.

Wait, she had remembered this thing. It was the akuma that the ladybug heroine had captured that day. How could it have come back?

Rather than continuing to question the moment, Ezra grabbed onto her racket and swung at the creature, though, to no avail, when the racket hit the butterfly it did not destroy it, but it dissolved into the racket as the racket began to take its colour. The last thing Ezra could think about as Ezra was the fear of what was to happen next.

Then Ezra was gone.

 

“Divine Deuce,” said a voice in her head, “I am Hawk Moth. I have gifted you with the power of strength and telekinesis. Now, you can use this power to master your craft, however, I will need something in return when the time comes.”

“I will not lose this time,” said the Divine Deuce and then she transformed. Her look resembled that of a tennis ball with the mask covering all except her ponytail and around her eyes. She reached for her tennis racket but before she could grab it, it began to rise into thin air. She lifted her hand and the racket rose in sync to it. She grinned and widened her hand. The racket swooped in her direction and she gripped it. She used the other hand to point a finger at the tennis ball and watched as it levitated off the ground. She widened her hand for it to swoop to her and she grabbed it, then proceeded to let the racket carry her outside into the open world.

She moved the racket below her and put one foot on the strings and the other on the handle. She proceeded to literally surf through the air using her racket until she was floating above the entire town. Down below she could see the bakery her former self had been employed in.

She stood straight upon the racket and looked at the ball she held in her hand.

“You know what to do,” she whispered to it and kissed it before she threw it to the bakery. The ball beamed toward the bakery at such high velocity, no one had seen it coming as it smashed through every window and completely wrecking the interior of the bakery before making its way inside and up to the Dupain-Cheng apartment.

Meanwhile, a disappointed Marinette was on the phone with Adrien about how bad she was still feeling about Ezra. Adrien kept giving her reassuring responses saying that Ezra would calm down eventually and be open to listening when she’s ready. Before the conversation could go on further, a tennis ball jetted through her bedroom window and hit her smack in the face so hard, she fell back on her seat and hit her head on the hardwood floor, rendering Marinette unconscious with a bloody nose.

“Hello,” Adrien is heard calling out from the phone, “Marinette? Are you there?”

Tikki, the most worried she’s been in a holder’s lifetime, swoops to the phone.

“Adrien! Something terrible has happened and it knocked out Marinette.You need to transform and get here quick!”

“Oh no! Is she okay? I’ll be right there with Élodie!” He hung up.

Over to Adrien’s side, a concerned Élodie looked at her roommate and asked, “Is something wrong with her?”

“She’s passed out. We gotta go. Time to transform.”

Élodie nodded.

Back to the akumatized, a bloody ball had returned itself to the mother. She grabbed the ball and raised a brow, looking back over to the bakery. She let go of the ball and it stayed in its place, floating in the air. She raised her arms and lifted her head to the sky with closed eyes, concentrating. Tennis rackets could be seen removing themselves from other people’s grasps as they played, others where they lay in the court or at someone’s home. Dozens of windows could be heard shattering in the distance as the many rackets and balls made their way toward the Divine Deuce. When reaching her, the rackets could be seen floating around her from behind.

“ _Your_ tennis privileges have been revoked.”  

The villain brought her head back down and when she opened her eyes, the hazel colour had been replaced with dark purple irises and black where the white should be. She looked to see a heroine wearing a green suit call out to her from afar standing on the roof of the bakery.

Hawk Moth spoke in her head, “Her necklace. You must retrieve it and bring it to me.”

The Divine Deuce extended her arm and pointed to the heroine. An array of tennis balls began to beam toward her but she was quicker than them. This angered the villain. She surfed her way up to the roof of the building to challenge her mano-a-mano.

The heroine swung a fist as she approached but the Divine Deuce dodged it by flipping upside down in a loop. She grabbed onto the racket when she landed behind her and concentrated on one of the balls to come to her. She swung at the ball and it hit the heroine on the forehead, throwing the heroine off for a moment. The villain used that moment to approach her and strike her in the gut with the butt of the handle. The heroine clenched her gut in agony.

“Why does this keep happening to me,” said the heroine, then she threw an unexpected punch at the villain, who had only slightly turned her head at the force of the blow.

The villain moved her head back down to the heroine, only angered by the hit.

“ _Mierda_ ,” said the heroine in Spanish, the blue colour in her eyes changing to a red colour. Suddenly,  she had disappeared into thin air.

The villain was thrown off. She could feel more hits striking her in the face, but could not spot the source.

When Chameleon realized the hits weren’t doing any good, she called to Chat Noir on her communicator.

“Gonna need a little help here, kitty-kitty.”

“On it,” replied Chat Noir.

The Divine Deuce shook her head to collect herself when the hits stopped coming but before she could accept no one was there so she could resume her original course of action, another hero popped up before her. The villain summoned the number of rackets to her as she remained on the building.

“So you’re the one who’s been causing such a racket,” said Chat Noir as he saw the tennis rackets floating behind the villain. He yelped in pain when he felt a punch on his arm. The heroine was still there. “Go check on Mari, Chameleon. I got this.”

The Divine Deuce and Chat Noir gave each other a brief staredown before she summoned her racket to her. From behind her back she pulled out a tennis ball and striked it with force using the racket. It beamed toward Chat Noir but he twirled his baton to dodge it, then ran up to the villain and tried to strike her with his baton. She dodged it with her tennis racket and they had engaged in swordplay with their weapons.

After a good minute of that, Chat Noir found an opportunity to strike the villain in the gut with his baton. The villain winced only slightly and realized she had been wasting her time fighting these pests when she could be out seeking revenge on one more person. She got back on her racket and surfed through the air where she knew they wouldn’t be able to reach her.

Before she could get very far, she heard a zip make its way to her and saw a yoyo wrap its way around the handle of the racket. The racket slid off from underneath her feet and she began to fall until she summoned a few rackets to bundle up and catch her. As they carried her back up into the air, they began to form a throne for the villain.

Ladybug broke the racket, assuming the akuma had to be in the racket with a dark design, but the Divine Deuce stayed floating in the air on her throne made of tennis rackets.

The villain smirked as she held the real racket containing the akuma in her hand. Ladybug had broken a decoy.

The villain used her telekinetic ability to make the remaining rackets form a cage around the bug and cat heroes.

Chat Noir tried to use his Cataclysm to break down the cage, but it had only worked on one racket to which the Divine Deuce immediately replaced.

Hawk Moth spoke once more, “Yes! You have them. Now, take their Miraculouses and bring them to me!”

The Divine Deuce saw images of polka-dot earrings and a black ring in her head. Her objective was clear now. She was determined to complete it. She gripped hard on her racket and let it beam her toward the trapped heroes, but right when she was about to reach them, something pushed her out of the way and before she knew it, she was hanging from her racket, about to fall. She looked over to the two heroes and saw that the cage was falling apart, one racket after the other falling off. She stretched out her arm, concentrating harder to keep them in place.

She moved the racket back down below her and saw herself standing before Chameleon who had been wearing a jetpack with a polka-dotted design.

Chameleon had her own objective as well: figure out which racket contained the akuma and destroy it. Somehow, she had to disarm the villain.

The heroine tried kicking it out of the villain’s hand, but the villain summoned the racket back to her.

The Divine Deuce had to take care of her before she could get to the other two. She tried a different tactic; she swooped down into the city and started to run on her feet, holding the racket. She ran into an alleyway, Chameleon followed but the jetpack got caught in between a tight space. The villain disappeared when she made a turn and Chameleon acted fast by removing the jetpack and climbing the walls to look for the villain on the rooftops.

Chameleon’s necklace kept beeping. She was running out of time. So were Ladybug and Chat Noir. Luckily, she spotted the Divine Deuce who had continued to parkour her way through the alleyways. Chameleon hopped her way to the ground to follow closely behind.

From corner to corner, she stayed on the villain’s tail until she turned a corner and the Divine Deuce was nowhere to be seen. All that was seen was a wall. She’d hit a dead end.

Before Chameleon could climb the wall, she felt a hand on her neck and head that pushed her to the wall in front of her. She dropped to the ground and the final beep was heard coming from her Miraculous before the cuban Chameleon detransformed into Élodie Beaumont.

The Divine Deuce got on her knees and turned the fallen heroine to her back to seize her necklace but, for some reason had stopped when she saw the holder’s true identity. Somewhere, deep down, Élodie’s stunning appearance striked Ezra still and she felt weak to her knees.

The villain dropped her weapon without realizing it and Hawk Moth yelling in her head to grab the Miraculous had been blurred out. She didn’t want to reach for the necklace anymore. Instead, she wanted to reach for Élodie’s face….

Before felt could touch skin, Élodie grabbed onto the racket, plopped her eyes open and hit the Divine Deuce in the head with the butt of the racket before she got up and broke it against the dead-end wall. The Divine Deuce could feel herself breaking along with it. In the distance, dozens of rackets could be heard dropping from 50 feet above.

The villain inhaled a deep gasp before falling unconscious directly into Élodie’s arms.

Élodie, sitting up against the dead-end wall, looked down to the villain laying on her lap, who she knew was really the new newbie at school, then she looked up to the akuma who had been flying over the alleyway up above the roofs. Just then, Élodie’s kwami, Arra, had come out of her necklace.

“That akuma is going to get away!”

Arra had spoken too soon for not a short moment after did a yoyo zip through the air and capture the dark butterfly.

Élodie smiled. “She’s got it,” she said and rested her head on the dead-end wall, looking up to the sky from between the gap of the alleyway.

A short moment had passed when a black and purple blob washed over the unconscious villain, turning the Divine Deuce back into Ezra Hawthorne.

Just then, Ladybug showed up before the two before she, too, ran out of time and detransformed.

“Are you both okay,” asked Marinette with an exhausted Tikki by her side.

“She’ll be fine,” replied Élodie before rubbing her bruised forehead. “Me, however, is something entirely different.”

Just then, Ezra had begun to wake up. Arra and Tikki retreated into hiding.

She slowly opened her eyes and furrowed her brows, trying to figure out where she was and what had happened. She ran her hand down Élodie’s leg before her eyes adjusted and she realized what it was. She got up instantly, blushing, and turned her head to see the beauty that sat before her. Élodie half-smiled awkwardly and even that sent chills down Ezra’s spine.

Ezra turned her head the other way to see Marinette was there as well. She stood up and eyed both of them in surprise and utter perplexity.

“I don’t even want to know what happened,” she said and fled the scene, hesitating for a moment when she looked at Élodie.

Marinette and Élodie looked at each other. They shrugged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Minger' is a british insult used to describe someone who is unattractive or unpleasant.  
> So yeah this chapter was specifically hard to write because I'm not much good at writing fight scenes. Also I know i tend to over-explain a scene at points but idk that's just my writing style i guess. 
> 
> Stay tuned for more coming soon! Trying to start updating weekly.


	7. Trigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra's nightmares begin to get worse and worse. Though, she can't remember them when she wakes up, the gut-wrenching feeling remains and she doesn't know how else to channel it other than through her writing. After a night of overthinking that causes her to change her appearance, Ezra finds something she would have never before expected to find...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the title, there are actually no trigger warnings for this chapter. Ezra's just going through some personal issues.

So much had been going through Ezra’s mind that day: How did she end up in that alleyway? What were Élodie and Marinette doing there?

What happened after she had swung at that akuma?

These were questions that began to eat Ezra up alive, but not as much as the nightmares that would keep her up at night, following that day. Only one long week had gone by before she could no longer bear it. She decided to go to the only person she could turn to in this time of desperation.

As much as Ezra wanted to deny the probable outcome that she _had_ been akumatized, she needed answers. The following weekend, she went over to Juleka’s house to finally watch the Horrificator film they had been talking about days before.

Ezra watched on, figuring the film must have been made a while ago considering how much younger everyone had appeared. She saw practically everyone in her class there, aside from Nino who had likely been the one filming.

She was surprised to see Ladybug and Chat Noir show up to the scene. When she heard Ladybug mention an akuma, she realized the monster in the film had been one of those villains. She wondered how she had missed it in the LadyBlog.

Instant flashes of images flickered through her mind. She couldn’t quite make them out but it made her feel uneasy to continue watching on for some strange reason. She asked Juleka to pause the film.

“Something wrong,” Juleka asked. “We were just getting to the best part. There’s a room full of egg sacs in the next scene. Thought you’d be glad to know Chloé is trapped in one of them.” She seemed rather interested in the film. Ezra almost felt bad for making her stop it.

“Tell me,” said Ezra, looking over to her. “Do you ever… think of when you became one of those villains? What it must have been like?”

“Well, like I said, I don’t really remember any of it. I don’t even remember what I might have looked like. I try not to think about it. I don’t really _like_ thinking about it.” Juleka cast her eyes downward, then back up at the screen that displayed the monster. “I would have rather liked knowing I turned into something cool like _that_ than something I used to channel this desperate urge to be seen, for once.”

Ezra looked at Juleka in utter solicitude. It was one thing not to be seen or noticed and paying no mind to it, but actual _longing_ to be seen was something she could never before fathom. The way Juleka must have felt to drive an akuma to her must have been quite a terrible feeling indeed. Even so, Ezra could only think of that for a brief moment before thinking about her own concerns for herself.

“When that happened… did it ever give you nightmares… dreams you couldn’t remember, but still terrifying enough to keep you up, wondering?” Her vision trailed off to the side. “Did you ever feel that inevitable pull of darkness as you could feel yourself sinking further into the abysmal depths of some dark ocean?”

When Ezra looked back at Juleka, she had gotten back a fixed stare and two raised eyebrows. What she said had been oddly specific, but she could hardly keep her words in her head considering she had not been able to use her journal as an outlet all week.

“Did... _you_ become one of those things recently,” Juleka asked.

Ezra had denied any possibility that she had to Juleka. She even had herself convinced after coming up with enough excuses. She then shrugged off Juleka’s question and told her that she had just been curious.

Juleka chuckled a little at how jumpy Ezra had been about it and decided to no longer push the question. “Okay then. To answer your question, no, not really. I don’t dream a lot. That was some powerful stuff you were saying, though, very deep. I’ve only _read_ poems and stories that talk like that.”

Ezra laughed. “I dabble.”

“Cool,” said Juleka, intrigued. “Do you think you can show me some of your stuff?”

Ezra drew back for a moment. She had never before been asked such a question in her lifetime. When she wrote, she wrote to vent and never saw herself as someone who would show her work to others.

The moment ended and she smiled. “I can show you on Monday.”

“Awesome,” said Juleka. She looked at Ezra and motioned to the TV with her remote.

“Oh,” said Ezra looking back to the monster on the screen. She hesitated but only briefly and said, “Yes, of course.”

The film resumed and Ezra tried to hold back the uneasy feeling she got from watching the akuma attack caught on tape. It didn't quite work as well as she'd hoped but she didn't let Juleka know that.

 

***

 

Ezra had begun to spend a little more time with Juleka after that day. Come that very Monday, Ezra had opened herself up a bit more by showing Juleka her less personal poems and journal entries that described her observation of the world she saw around her. Though not the dark kind of poetry she was expecting, Juleka found it riveting anyway. She felt less alone reading it, more in touch with the world. Suddenly, she wasn’t invisible. She could feel the tangibility that had connected her to those around her and it had been incredible to feel.

As time had passed, Ezra found herself more unable to sleep as well as she used to. She found herself able to write again as she used this to channel it into her writing. If she were to read her journal all over again, there would have been a huge difference in writing from before her sleep deprivation and post. Her inspiration for writing had changed but not her style in the way she wrote. One would still be able to tell that it was the same person writing. She stopped showing Juleka her writing when things started getting too dark for her to handle, which had been a surprise, even for Juleka.

One night, the nightmares for Ezra were as well.

It was 2am on a Saturday night and she didn’t know why, but, for some reason, the nightmare she just had was enough to keep her up for the remainder of that night, staring at the ceiling, contemplating why she couldn’t allow herself to fall back asleep.

Half an hour of contemplating tonight’s dream had gone until Ezra’s mind had gone deep enough through every possibility to take her thoughts to a darker place.

Ezra still didn’t want to believe this was happening because she may have been possessed by one of those butterflies. She wanted to believe it could have just been stress or anything else. She wanted to believe it so bad that she started overthinking different possibilities.

Thoughts of her mother and father spilled into the recesses of her mind, corrupting her subconscious with darkness and utter despair. The thought of Marinette and what she had said had echoed deep within her eardrum, pounding at it like a mallet. When she had finally thought things were turning around and she didn’t have to force herself to be so comfortable being alone, someone finally gave her a reason to keep it that way. She didn’t talk to Adrien and avoided him in the lunch area, sometimes resorting to the girls bathroom if she had to.

Even if that day with Marinette didn’t happen, no matter how much she felt like she would fit in, Ezra would have never felt so disconnected from others in her life. She was different, an outsider. That would not change. She questioned why she ever expected it to. The illusion of her ever being normal was something she could no longer try to hold onto.

So she didn’t.

Ezra got up from her bed and made her way to her satchel where she pulled out a Manic Panic black hair dye that Juleka had gifted her. Ezra never would have thought she’d have any use for it until now. She took it to the bathroom.

She stared at herself in the mirror, looking at her straight, silky long blonde hair. It had been her mother’s prized possession. It was what made Ezra a lady. It met the status quo and the standards of society: A woman looked better with longer hair. A woman looked pretty in a dress. A woman who was ladylike was an attractive woman.

Ezra had always kept her hair up in a ponytail, not only to keep her hair out of her face when writing or practicing tennis, but to spite her mother and society's myopic fantasy.

But that wasn't enough anymore. She couldn't stand looking at it for another moment.

She had to get rid of it.

Ezra went to the kitchen and pulled out a pair of scissors from the silverware drawer. These scissors were used to cut meat or open plastic wraps, but she didn't see the difference if she were to use it for her hair. Scissors only served one purpose, to cut, to remove, to tear, and that's exactly what Ezra was going to do. She was going to tear this stereotype apart.

She took the scissors to the bathroom and held out a strand of hair in front of her face. She moved the scissors up to her eyebrows and squinted her eyes shut. With one snip, she had bangs, thin as her hair was. She kept snipping up to the back of her head, cutting long strands as they fell, swiftly, to the floor. Soon enough, her hair was short enough to pass for a pixie cut.

Ezra looked at herself in the mirror and smiled, running her fingers through her hair. She could not believe what she had just done. She had never felt more alive. She had never felt so free.

Before she could let her elation grow any higher, she looked back to the hair dye and remembered what she originally contemplated on doing. There it was, the missing piece to complete her transformation into someone who was no longer bound by the standards of a rich society. By doing this, she would no longer be a prisoner trapped by society’s demands. She would be, on the outside, as she had deeply felt, on the inside.

She proceeded to make this a reality.

 

The sun began to rise and light had entered her room when Ezra turned her head to the window. She sat up on her bed and ran her fingers through her newly shortened and tinted hair, once more. She sighed a sigh of contentment for once in what seemed to be years to her. Though, sleepless still, she had never felt more awake and ready to take on the day.

Unfortunately for her, as ready as she was, today was her day off, from school, from work, from anything she was forced to drag herself into which would have made her feel even more empowered that she was more than ready to face it anyway.

Ezra had watched night turn into day from her balcony. The way the Eiffel Tower appeared as she saw it, silhouetted by the colours of the sky changing behind it, was just as beautiful a sight to see as watching the sunset.

It had relaxed her, but only for a moment. She couldn’t stare at the sky all day and when she looked down at her clothing chosen for her by her family, she realized she was in for a complete fashion change to match her head. She decided to go shopping.

In an unfortuitous event, a store to fit Ezra’s particular fashion of choice was immensely hard to find on her own. She called Juleka on her new tracfone.

“Oh, yeah,” said Juleka over the phone. “You’re not gonna find a lot of places that sell in our side of Paris, which is why I usually get my stuff on the web.” Juleka intended that last word to be used as a pun to her gothic stature. “The only places you’re gonna find are on the other side of town. A bus ride would probably take up to an hour.”

Ezra didn’t mind the trip. It was early and she had nothing better to do for the day. She got on the first bus she could that took her to the nearest shop. She got there in 40 minutes, nearly half the time.

Entering the store, Ezra had seen things beyond her imagination. As familiar as a girl could have gotten with her rich class, she never would have imagined all the things she’d have seen, from tarot cards to spell books and that wasn't even to mention the different fashion choices. The chokers, the bracelets, the fingerless gloves and spider-leggings. She could feel the bile rise in her throat when she had reached the corsets, however, but other than that she had found a gothic paradise.

As excited as she had been, she had no idea where to start. There were so many things to choose from but the amount of money she could spend had been limited. This was something that had never happened to Ezra. Poverty was a new feeling, as new as changing her clothing style. She was overwhelmed with the possibilities but it gave her a rush she had enjoyed.

With enough clothing in hand, Ezra went to the fitting room to try on what she had picked. Some things looked better hung up than on her but one outfit caught her eye.

It was a black shirt with a fishnet pattern on the sleeves that showed practically all the skin on her arms. The pants she wore had been black with slight open tears around the knee area that had been tucked into shoe-laced black combat boots.

Ezra actually liked how she looked in it, but when she looked up to her face in the mirror, she had noticed something was missing. Her outfit wasn’tl complete just yet.

She rushed out of the fitting room to find the missing touch and found herself looking at a section with different types of makeup that she could only glance at briefly because she despised the memory of her mom dolling her up with such cosmetics. She stumbled onto an open section full of piercings.

Most had been encased in glass and some were piled up in seperate small boxes near the clearance section. Ezra chose to go to the clearance section to find something cheap to fit her budget.

There were different types of boxes for different types of piercings. Ezra decided an eyebrow piercing would be the least painful and look nicer than something on her nose or lip. She rummaged through each box until one in particular caught her eye.

It was a gold ring with 5 silver diamonds lined up over it. It was beautiful.

Ezra brought it to the counter without thinking to dress back in the clothing she’d walked in with.

The cashier eyed her, indifferently, chewing her gum. “You gonna wear that out,” she asked.

Ezra looked down at her new outfit and nodded, pushing the small box toward the cashier. “I would also like to purchase this,” she said.

“Mhm.” The cashier blew a bubble and went to scan the box when she furrowed her eyebrows.

“Weird,” she said. “I can’t find the price tag.” She paused for a split second, put the box back down and knelt down before pulling out a book full of barcodes. “Must have fallen off. I’ll just charge you the usual price for piercings on sale.”

She opened the book and flipped through the pages until she found the one she was looking for then scanned a few before telling Ezra the total price.

Ezra purchased the clothing along with the piercing and took the bus straight home to put it on.

Searching through the internet, Ezra found a YouTube link that gave her a step-by-step process on how to pierce her eyebrow at home without the use of clamps. She followed every instruction, not missing one little detail. As painful a process as it had been, she was relieved for it to finally be over.

It had all been worth it when she saw herself in the mirror, once again, and felt complete.

“Thank _God_ that’s over and done with,” said Ezra in utter relief as she sat on the edge of her bed.

Suddenly, she was caught frozen where she sat when she heard a small voice behind her say, “Yeah well listen up, it gets worse, honey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun DUUUUNNNN!!  
> So this chapter was a bit shorter than the others, but it kept you at the edge of your seat, didn't it?  
> All will be explained in the next chapter, coming soon!
> 
> Also here's my inspiration for the part where Ezra decides to cut her hair: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MilR3Z1sASY  
> It's from the Mulan soundtrack. After reading a post on how a haircut signifies a great change in one's life, I looked back at the scene where Mulan cut her hair and when I heard this particular score from the soundtrack, I could instantly picture the scene in which Ezra makes her way to grab the scissors and cuts her hair as the clipped locks fall in slow motion. You could almost feel an intimate connection with this character when hearing this and possibly empathize with the haircut analysis. That's how I felt when writing the haircut scene.


	8. Kwami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra finds out that her new eyebrow piercing spawned a small bat-like creature known as a "kwami" named Puvva. Unable to accept her reality, she tries to find a way out of it, but the kwami convinces her that her duty as a miraculous holder is sacred and an unbreakable deal. She decides to test her abilities gifted to her by her miraculous and Puvva but things take a slightly different turn than she expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now you can understand the title of the story. Only took 8 chapters! Told ya this story was gonna be slow, but hey, what a build-up.

Ezra didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know _how_ to think when she turned around to see a tiny bat-like creature floating before her.

“Bloody hell,” was all she could think to say or do in that moment.

“You’re telling _me_ , doll,” the creature spoke. “Feels like ages that I’ve been tucked away.”

Ezra drew closer to it, more intrigued than afraid.She thought she must have fallen asleep before sunrise hit and might have likely been dreaming this whole time. “It talks,” she said, furrowing her brows, trying to figure out what _it_ was.

“Oh, I can do more than that, hun,” said the creature. “The name’s Puvva.” It bowed. “Honorary kwami at your service.”

Ezra kept pondering the creature’s purpose. “What’s a kwami?”

The creature called Puvva laughed. “Well it’s only your lifelong friend, _amiga_.”

Puvva spoke in an oddly chipper tone each time he wanted to say something. Ezra already didn’t enjoy his company. She paused, then said, “Wait, lifelong?” At this point, she could no longer be able to tell whether or not this had been a dream.

“I’m afraid so.” Puvva crossed his little arms as he flew to Ezra’s shoulder and sat there. Ezra moved her eyes to him, uncomfortable with how close he was getting.

“Y’see,” said Puvva, “My entire being is attached to that little piece of jewelery you’re wearing up there.” He gestured to her eyebrow piercing. “The only reason you can see me at all is because you’re wearing that thing. Needless to say, it wasn’t always like that. Used to be as simple as opening a box, but,” he sighed, “I came a little late to the party so I was made just a _little_ bit different than the rest.”

Ezra grew curious now. “How so?”

“Well, for one, once the holder of the miraculous you’re wearing there puts it on, the jewel doesn’t detach itself too easily like the others do.”

Ezra spoke before the kwami could continue. She had only been focused on one word. “What do you mean _others_?”

“Well, there’s the main two which are the Ladybug and Cat miraculouses…”

“Wait a tick,” interrupted Ezra once again, trying to figure out what was happening to her. “So you’re saying the heroes running around the city saving people from those… villains also have little creatures that are connected to them? Even the Chameleon?”

“Ooo, so they _are_ active around here.”

“But they don’t have eyebrow piercings.”

“It’s different for every one, doll. Ladybug’s got the earrings, Cat’s got the ring, Chameleon’s got a necklace.”

Ezra got down to the real question on her mind. “Are you telling me, then, that _I_ am to be one of those heroes and that _you_ are the key to making me just that?”

“That’s why I’m here, to tell you all about how you possess the power of protection and get to fly around in a bat costume, saving the day or at least protecting the heroes that do anyway. Now, I know that’s a lot to swallow but-”

“I won’t do it,” she spoke firmly. She didn’t need much time to swallow anything.

“Uh, what was that?”

“I’m just a girl,” she said, standing up and walking off as Puvva got off her shoulder and proceeded to float in place. “I stay in the sidelines and I only look out for myself because I don’t owe the world a damn thing. I’m not cut out for this. I’m not a hero and I’m certainly no good at _protecting_ people. I’ve got my own problems to deal with to handle anyone else’s.”

“Okay.. That was a bit selfish of you to say… but you’re gonna have to let me expla-”

“And what are you, anyhow? Where does your kind originate from? How are you real? What kind of possibly nonexistent God could have decided something so specific as to create superheroes out of random people like it was out of a comic book or something?”

“Well, you ain't just some random dewdropper that I fell into out of the blue. You were chosen.”

“How could that be when I picked this jewel out in a store and purchased you myself?”

Puvva began to look puzzled. “Hold your horses! The Great Guardian would _never_ put me up for sale!” He put his little hand up to his chin, pondering for a moment. “Heh. That clumsy old boy must have misplaced me somehow which got me to end up there. No matter.” He flew up to Ezra’s face. “Either way, looks like this is your destiny now, no matter what. Either take the gig or rip that sucker off your brow because that’s the only way you’re getting rid of _this_ swanky sap.”

Ezra widened her eyes in disbelief. “I beg your pardon,” she exclaimed.

“Oh yeah, babe. What’d you think, that it was gonna be that easy? The whole point is to commit your life to being the **sworn** protector, doll. Key word; _sworn_. Break that promise and it breaks you.”

Ezra crossed her arms, not beginning to be amused by this even greater change in her life any time soon. “That is quite literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Puvva crossed his little arms too, mimicking her. “Them’s the rules, doll.”

“Does this also apply for the other 3 roaming around this city?”

 **“** You mean the Ladybug, Cat, and Chameleon miraculouses?”

 **“** Yes.”

 **“** ‘fraid not, hun.”

 **“** What?! So you’re saying they get off easy? Why?”

 **“** They’re old news, bunny boo. What you got here is new tech.” Puvva gestured to himself.

 **“** Is that seriously a thing?”

“Not all Miraculouses were created in the same time period. We come in sets. I’m from the Spartan era. Don’t you know what it was like in those times? Not swell at all, dear, not in the slightest.”

“This is outrageous,” said Ezra, slamming her body onto her bed and stuffing her face into her pillow, groaning. She layed on her back and placed her wrist on her forehead, staring up at the ceiling.

“Oh, come on,” said Puvva, placing himself on Ezra’s belly. “It’s not as bad as you think. You’re not just protecting the heroes, you’re protecting all of humanity from pure chaos.”

“No, you’re right.” And in a split second, Puvva could smile…

… if she didn’t flick the creature off her stomach and proceed to say, “I used the wrong word to describe it. This is _ridiculous_! I wanted a change, but not like this.”

Puvva was getting just as annoyed as she was at this point. “Don’t ya think that maybe this is the change you _needed_ ? Sheesh and I thought my _last_ master was stubborn.”

“Master,” Ezra mumbled to herself almost too low for Puvva to hear but not low enough before she sat up, putting her weight on her elbows.

“Aw, jeepers,” Puvva muttered, backing away. “I sure _hope_ you’re not anything like my last master.”

Ezra paid no mind to what he was saying. “So I’m _your_ master.”

“Uh-huh.” He backed away further.

She raised a brow. “And what I say goes.”

“Yep.” Puvva threw a look of concern. He had hoped she had no evil intentions like his previous master did.

“Very well then. My first order in command is… for you to take this jewel off so I can be rid of you and this dreaded new unnecessary responsibility.”

Ever so relieved, Puvva burst out in laughter. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry to say it don’t work like that.” He laughed some more. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me until the bitter end, Jane.”

Ezra, more furious and unamused than she’d ever been, spoke as calmly as she could and said, “It’s Ezra.”

Puvva ceased his laughter. “Oh.” He drew nearer again. “Well, what a pleasure to put a name to that adorable little face.” He used his little hand to rub her cheek. Ezra quickly flicked him away with a scoff of disgust. She knew she was going to despise this new change, especially considering the way Puvva reminded her of her mother and the way she would speak to her as a child.

She made her way into the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror once more. She stared at the piercing she had now regretted purchasing. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

“Y’know,” said Puvva, placing himself on her head, “One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do, darling.”

“Two can be as bad as one,” she responded.

 

Puvva had continued to explain to Ezra her new responsibilities as the protector of the other miraculous holders. The purpose of the Bat miraculous was to protect the ones close to her. Since she, herself, had claimed to have nothing but herself to protect, Puvva _gave_ her something to protect.

Ezra told Puvva of the akumas and what she knew about them and Puvva had elaborated his familiarity to her of the akumas, explaining how they also came from a miraculous that had been turned evil by its holder. It was then that Puvva had begun to tell Ezra of his former master and how he had abused his powers of protection and when uncovering the secrets of his power, had used them for evil. He did not explain further to Ezra as much, as she persisted to learn more, in order to prevent it from happening again. Puvva started to grow concerned by her curiosity. He shrugged it off for now.

The kwami then began to explain the abilities of the Bat superhero. When active, the hero gains night vision, can glide (or fly is she flaps hard enough) from great heights with their wings that also act as a shield, and use sonar waves to track the miraculous holders as well as detect the akumas and those affected by it. Sonar waves can also be used to move objects and people from danger.

“That’s it,” Ezra asked.

“Well you’ve also got your special secret superpower, _Venomate_.”

“And what does that do?”

“It temporarily stuns the enemy, giving you full control over the sitch. You have to be careful though in deciding when to use it because that trick is usually hard to pull. You’d have to get close enough to bite them which is hard because it’s usually difficult to catch the enemy off guard. It also depends on how soft and squishy they are. You’re not gonna be able to stun someone made of stone, for example.”

“That still doesn’t sound like much.”

Puvva rolled his eyes. “Again, your purpose it to protect, not create or destroy like the others do. You have all the necessary abilities for the job. You’re mostly in defense alongside the Chameleon, while your pals in the red and green are meant to fight.”

“And I can do that with just those abilities?”

“It doesn’t take much to do so, sweetheart. A lot of what goes into that comes from you and your will to protect those around you.”

“What if I lack that will?”

“Well then I guess this was the biggest cosmic mistake of all time.” Puvva shook his head and brought it down to his stubby little hand. “Just.. work with me here. We’re both gonna be stuck together for a while.”

Ezra sighed. “You mean eternity.” She brought her head down to her hand as well.

“Eeehhhh, not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, technically, the miraculous can remove itself... once you’re dead.”

“Brilliant. So, in order to get rid of you and this wretched responsibility, I’d have to cause permanent damage to my skin or kill myself. Either way, I bleed and it’s unbearable. How fitting for a bat.” Ezra paused to think, then said, “What if I flatline myself? I had seen it once in a film. It could work.”

“I repeat: you’re not getting rid of me that easily. It’s gotta be a death you can’t come back from. So, in this case, the jewel doesn’t detach until the 15 minutes after flatlining when you’re officially pronounced dead.”

Ezra buried her face in her hands, then moved them to her cheeks. “What kind of bastard made these rules, anyway?”

“That would be the mage who connected me to the jewel. Not a pleasant fella, that guy. A real goof, if you ask me. He was the descendant of the mage who made the first few Miraculouses. He thought he could use me to help defend the Spartan Empire against the Persian Empire. Didn’t quite work out how they’d hoped. That king did _not_ know how to use this thing.” He tapped the jewel with his hand.

“Are you saying you were made specifically for the Battle of Thermopylae?” Ezra could almost laugh. Almost.

“Would ya look at that? Little doll knows her history.”

“It’s a well renowned story. There’s movies made of it- Why do you keep calling me that?”

“‘Cause you almost look like one, doll. Reminds me of a time back in the cultist days when they’d dress in black and sew voodoo dolls, chanting some latin mumbo jumbo.”

“You seem to have a peculiar history of falling into evil predecessors.”

“Actually, that’s not how it went down at all. I was born from someone’s abstract idea to _protect_ from evil, or at least what was considered evil to them. The king of the Spartan Empire did whatever it took to protect his people just like that gal in the cult wanted to protect her child from becoming the antichrist or something. They all had good intentions as barbaric or satanic the holders were and they were all to serve the same purpose; protection. The Miraculous has never been used otherwise up until my last holder who had abused that power when he found out too much and got carried away, but I guess when you’re someone like me who was born from darkness, it never stays too far behind.” He didn’t let his smile or peppy attitude falter once.

Ezra pondered that last sentence. She began to correlate it to her own life; to be raised in a lifestyle she could not so easily escape because it will always be a part of her. Whether or not destiny was involved, she started to consider the idea that maybe this was all happening for a reason. Maybe this was just the distraction she needed.

“So,” said Ezra. “Does this hero have a name, besides Bat miraculous?”

Puvva grinned and twirled higher in the air, relieved she was willing to take on the responsibility. He then pondered for a moment and instead of telling her she could choose, thought up the most ridiculous name he could think of.

“Batty Bat.”

Ezra raised a brow. “You can’t be serious. Can’t I decide myself?”

“Already been decided. Your name _has_ to be Batty Bat.”

“It _has_ to?”

“Oh sure. All the kwamis get to name their heroes.” He stifled a laugh.

“Very well then,” she told Puvva, rolling her eyes. “How do I become... Batty Bat?” She brought her fists to her sides and bent her elbows in an exaggerated superhero stance. Puvva was about to burst.

“Well…” He paused, snickering at her. “All you gotta do is say ‘night sense’ but-”

“Puvva, night sense.” She wasted no time.

“Wait,” was all the kwami could exclaim before being forced into the jewel attached to Ezra’s eyebrow.

Suddenly, she transformed. The 5 silver diamonds changed colour into 5 red rubies and her suit had appeared in increments starting with her arms that were covered in a silky black material making its way down her body. A mask then began to form on her head that covered the top and making its way down the back of her neck, concealing her hair as her face was being covered up to the middle of her nose, leaving a spot on her eye open for the miraculous. She then began to form bat ears as well as wings that began underneath her wrists and ended on her waist. Soon enough, Ezra Hawthorne had become…. Batty Bat.

Completely transformed, she went to take a look at herself in the mirror.

“How odd,” she said to herself, noticing Puvva was nowhere to be seen. She had then noticed the colour change in the diamonds on her jewel, how they had appeared to be more like rubies now, instead. She’d also noticed that the colour of her hazel eyes were more brown over green than how they’d always been, vice versa. She touched her bat ears and was startled to see and feel them twitch.

She started to explore the extent of her abilities, closing herself in her bathroom and turning the light off to conceal herself in complete darkness. Her bat ears began to hum and she could vividly sense where everything had been in the room, creating outlines of the objects in her mind.

“Curious,” she said, then turned the lights back on.

She decided to take her new hero form out for a spin… or a fly.

Her heart had been racing when she stood at the edge of her balcony. It took courage to jump off such a great height which she certainly didn’t lack. The adrenaline rushing within her prepared her for that risk. She fell, descending… descending… descending… then she spread open her wings and began to glide. She closed her fists and flapped as fast as she could and began to ascend into the air. When her arms grew weary she glided again, this time low enough for civilians to spot her. People below could be seen taking out their smartphones to take photos of this new strange being. The Bat did not notice them.

She flew back up again, high enough to place herself on the rooftop of her apartment building and crouch near the edge, looking off into the city below her. The view of the Eiffel Tower had looked much better from up there than how it looked from the balcony.

The new hero inhaled through her nose and she could capture the scent of fresh bread coming from the bakery below. She moved her eyes to the building and that’s when she met eyes with a stunned Marinette who had been looking back up at her from her own rooftop. They held a stare for a brief moment until Marinette ran inside. The bat-like heroine wondered if it had been the way she looked or maybe Paris just wasn’t ready for an additional superhero.

She didn’t let herself care what Paris wanted. Like the kwami had said, this was about what they _needed_ and what they needed was all the help they could get.

Moments of contemplating this new hero identity had gone by before her train of thought came to a stop at the sight of the three heroes of Paris. She had almost forgotten her utmost responsibility.

By the looks of it, they had spotted her, too. They were coming toward her quickly… almost too quickly…

They didn’t look too happy either.

The Bat had realized they saw her as a threat and immediately got up to flee and avoid being attacked.

Before she could jump off the roof, Ladybug’s yo-yo had wrapped itself around the Bat’s wrist. She had been pulled by it and turned to face Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Not so fast,” said Ladybug, pulling her closer.

“Sorry,” said Chat Noir, holding his staff like one would hold a baseball bat, “but your flight’s cancelled.” A double pun.

“That’s strange,” said Ladybug. “It’s hard to tell where the akuma could be hiding. I don’t see any key items except… maybe the piercing?”

Chat Noir cringed. “Well, that would leave a mark.”

The Bat widened her eyes. She didn't catch his pun on how it would literally leave two open holes if they removed it carefully. She didn’t believe they would go to such an extent as to tear it off, but then again, she had no idea what they were capable of. She then remembered the key word in her sentence.

“I’m not…” she hesitated briefly, trying to recall the word Puvva had used before to describe it, “.. akumatized!”

“That’s exactly what someone who’s akumatized would say,” said Chameleon, joining her allies.

The accused heroine persisted. “Listen to me! I’m a hero, like you. I’m-”

“Not falling for _that_ again,” Ladybug interrupted without giving the heroine a chance to explain herself.

She knew she wasn’t going to get through to them. She needed time to figure out how to prove it to them. She bought this time by using her sonar waves to create a screeching high pitched noise that affected the three and got Ladybug to cover her ears, loosening her grip on the yo-yo.

“Interesting,” said the Bat, surprised to discover this new power her kwami forgot to mention before.

She used this opportunity to flee to the ground, but the effect she had on the heroes lasted only as long as she used the power before they proceeded to chase her again.

When she saw the yo-yo coming toward her again, she used her sonar waves once more to dodge it. Oddly enough, she felt her energy drain more and more with each time she had used it.

Ladybug, from a rooftop, covered her ears again and said to her companions, “As long as I keep trying to use my tool, she’s going to keep using the same tactic. Chat Noir, Chameleon, I need you guys to distract her so I can catch her off guard.”

The two heroes looked at each other then back at her and nodded before they headed off to catch up with the Bat.

She was useless on her feet, but she was too worn out to try and fly again and even if she could, it was much easier to jump off a great height than spread her wings and wait for the wind to kick in.

She kept running until she had nowhere to go. Just when she thought she’d lost them, she felt a force hit her in the face. It felt like a punch but she saw no one there. She held her hand to her cheekbone and felt another punch on her stomach. “What’s going on,” she exclaimed, grabbing onto her stomach.

Suddenly, Chameleon appeared before her before Chat Noir came up behind and held her by the neck with his staff.

Choking on her words, the Bat said, “You have to trust me.” She kept trying to break free of his grasp. “I’m here to help you. I’m… a superhero… too.” Chat Noir had her held tight.

“If you’re a superhero like us,” said Chat Noir, “then where’s your tool?”

It was then that Chameleon had stopped to realize something. “Chat Noir,” she told him, “ _I_ don’t use a tool.”

Chat Noir, immediately released the Bat and looked to his companion, sudden remorse in his eyes.

“Was it so hard to believe _I_ was really a superhero, like you?”

He paused as he looked down to the Bat who looked back at him with genuine innocence in her eyes. He put away his staff, but remained cautious with the heroine, as did Chameleon, both of them prepared to put their defenses back up if they needed to.

Then, Chat Noir noticed the piercing on her eyebrow, a gold ring with five rubies, the five that signified the five minute mark after the special power was used.

“Maybe,” he said, “Her piercing… is the Miraculous.” He extended his arm to her, a welcoming gesture. Would she take it this time? Was she going to leave him hanging?

This gesture was genuine. Deep down, Ezra was observant enough to see it. She began to reach out her arm…

Before she was able to make another move, Ladybug’s yo-yo had wrapped itself around her entire body, arms included. The Bat wasn’t shaking any hands today.

“Ladybug-”

“Thanks for slowing her down for me, you guys.” Ladybug had interrupted Chat Noir before he could say anything. She approached the restrained heroine.

“Wait, Ladybug,” he persisted. “I don’t think she’s been akumatized.”

“That’s impossible.” She grabbed onto the jewel on the Bat’s eyebrow with both her hands and tried removing it the safer way, but it wouldn’t budge.

The Bat stood there, not knowing what else she could do.

“It’s not impossible. She’s the real deal.”

Ladybug looked to her cat companion with a serious look on her face. This was the Volpina situation all over again. “I’m not doing this again.” she then dropped one hand and began to tug at the jewel until Chat Noir instantly yelled out for her to stop.

“This isn’t like Lila, Ladybug. You’re gonna seriously hurt her by doing that!”

“It’ll heal once I’ve cleansed the akuma.” She didn’t keep her eyes off the prize, as well as her grip.

“There isn’t an akuma!”

At this point, she had stopped listening to him. She would never forget what had happened with Lila. Even if Adrien had just been an illusion, she still had her emotions toyed with when she almost let herself trust a villain and she wasn’t about to let that happen to her again. She started to tug at the jewel once more.

Everyone else’s next words had started to overlap each other.

“No,” yelled Chat Noir.

“Ladybug, don't,” said Chameleon.

“Lord, have mercy. It’s happening anyway,” said the Bat underneath her breath, closing her eyes as she began to feel the pain.

All of a sudden, screams were heard in the distance as various civilians scattered.

A real akumatized villain was seen making their way toward the heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, if you haven't already noticed, the song I had referenced earlier on in the chapter is what inspired Puvva's character. I stumbled upon it one day and saw it as a perfect fit!  
> I could just picture Puvva breaking out into a musical number and Ezra just standing there being life 'wtf is this'. 
> 
> The version I found is sung by Nathan Lane who I thought would be the perfect voice claim for Puvva.  
> Check it out!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UFkAalFNBU
> 
> Also, I know the logistics of a hero in the Miraculous universe calls for a special tool to help them fight, but when I noticed Chameleon doesn't use one in Rae's fic, I figured to come up with the idea that her and Batty Bat's miraculous don't require tools because their powers should be enough to protect Ladybug and Chat Noir. In this case, they both serve the same purpose but Chameleon protects by fighting and Batty Bat protects by defending the heroes.


	9. Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After it is confirmed that Batty Bat truly is a hero and not an akuma victim, the accused heroine gets offended and decides to leave the three heroes to their own devices until they need her help. When that time comes, she realizes she is more than unprepared to save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I ask you to bear with me on this one...

Ladybug had seen the villain approaching them and looked back to what she had just been doing. She let go of the jewel and brought her hands to her mouth, ashamed in realizing the Bat couldn’t have been one of Hawk Moth’s akumatized villains because, according to her kwami, Hawk Moth can only create one villain at a time. 

“Oh my goodness,” she said, instantly regretting everything. “I’m so sorry.”

“So it  _ is  _ true,” said Chat Noir before extending his arm out to get that handshake.

The Bat spoke firmly after pushing Chat Noir’s hand back down. “Yeah, screw you for choking me,” she pointed to Chat Noir first, then Ladybug, “and screw  _ you  _ for almost stripping me of my powers for good. Like I was  _ trying  _ to say earlier, I’m here to protect you and I’m  _ only  _ here to protect  _ you _ three. So until you need me, I’ll be staying in the sidelines.” She didn’t miss a beat. 

The power the akumatized villain possessed involved the ability to create high winds which had been all too convenient for the heroine. “If you need me, just yell. I’ll hear it.” She said before she spread open her wings and let herself be carried into the air as she flapped her way to the roof. 

The three heroes watched her fly off for a moment.

“Do you think we deserved that,” asked Chameleon.

“Just let her cool off for a little while,” Ladybug responded. “How would you have felt if we had accused  _ you  _ of being a villain?” She zipped away to fight the villain and Chat Noir followed.

Chameleon sighed through her nose, considering Ladybug’s point, though not enough to consider that this new hero was actually doing the right thing by choosing to fight on her own volition rather than being there to protect her heroes like she had claimed she was doing. She briefly looked up at the rooftop where the Bat had flown off to, then went on to detransform in a hidden location and recharge her kwami so she could continue to fight alongside her allies... because someone had to. 

The Bat had kept her word with her three new companions and stayed on the rooftop, not once joining in on the fight. Instead, she laid back, not much of a care in the world, relaxing on the roof of a building not too far from the fight. 

It wasn’t until she had heard Ladybug calling from below that she had stopped staring up at the clouds.

“Chameleon’s in trouble,” said Ladybug. “You have to help her! This villain’s got us on our toes.” 

“Literally,” said Chat Noir as he and his Ladybug companion were being lifted off the ground by the strong winds circling them.

Both Ladybug and Chat Noir had suddenly been blown away by the strong winds the villain’s power was giving off.

The Bat, fully alert now, had spotted Chameleon down below, buried underneath some heavy crates, unable to move as the villain had approached her on his feet. The Bat glided down from the roof and quietly came up behind the villain before yelling “ _ Venomate! _ ”. Suddenly, two fangs formed from her canines as well as the lime green bubbles surrounding them. She used her power and bit down on his neck. 

The villain cried out in pain and put a hand to where he had been bitten. About a moment after that, he found himself unable to move a muscle. He was frozen in place.

The Bat took this opportunity to lift the crates off of Chameleon using her sonar waves. 

“Thanks,” said Chameleon, indifferently, before she went to find where her allies had been blown off to. The Bat had decided to follow for it had been her responsibility. She also knew that only Ladybug would be able to capture and cleanse the akuma. 

Ladybug and Chat Noir had been seen sprinting towards the other two heroes as well. 

“Where’s the villain,” said Ladybug when she and Chat Noir got close enough. 

“I stunned him with my special power,” replied the Bat. “He’s over-” she began pointing in the direction the villain was last seen. Though, they hadn’t been far from where he was, the effect of the power didn’t seem to last very long and he was suddenly nowhere to be found. The Bat was thrown off. She probably shouldn’t have left him there, unsupervised. 

Ladybug began to look concerned. “We need to find him,” she said. “I still don’t know where the akuma’s hiding.” 

The other three heroes seemed to immediately know where to look as they spread out to find the villain, while the Bat had stood there for a moment trying to figure out where to go or how to spot him without any trace of wind to help get her off the ground. Then, she thought of something she felt stupid not to have tried before. She ran and spread out her wings, flapping endlessly until there was enough force to pull her into the air. She began to rise off the ground, but only slightly. It would take a lot more force to bring her up without the help of the wind and she found herself still too exhausted from before to keep flapping. She wasn’t going to be able to get high enough to at least reach the rooftop or get a bird’s eye view. 

The Bat gave up trying to fly and ran to find the heroes she was originally supposed to be protecting. 

She found Chat Noir who was running down the street to find the enemy. The Bat ran next to him.

“I apologize for what happened back there,” she told him.

“What  _ did  _ happen back there,” he asked her. 

“He was frozen in place and couldn’t move at all only a minute ago. He must have gotten away. I knew the effect didn’t last that long but I didn’t think it would fade away so quickly.” 

Chat Noir paused as they both kept running. He knew she must have been new in more ways than one. “That’s still a pretty useful power though, under different circumstances,” he said, figuring she could use the support. “I wish my power was that  _ stunning _ .” He then looked at her and smiled, smugly. She looked back at him and grinned with a scoff. She then noticed his staff and remembered how it can extend to far reaches. 

She stopped the Cat hero from running. 

“How far does that extend, exactly?” She bit her lip and rolled her eyes.  _ That’s what she said. _ She quickly pointed to his staff to show what she had been referring to. 

Chat Noir held up his tool and eyed it. “Pretty far. At least enough to reach the rooftops.”

“Perfect,” said the Bat and she got him to take her to the rooftops using his staff. She had finally gotten high enough to drop, glide, and flap just enough to bring her slightly high enough to get a clear view of the area. She had spotted the villain near City Hall where it looked as if he was after the Mayor who had just stepped inside. The villain was following behind, sneaking up behind him, no winds in use. 

The Bat signaled his location to Chat Noir who nodded back at her and used his staff to call Ladybug over. 

Once again, the Bat had sneaked up behind the villain so she could use her special power, but when she bit down on him, she was surprised to find it had no effect on him this time. The villain turned around. 

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, then pushed out his hand, shoving her about 50 feet away without even touching her. 

The Bat fell on her rear from the push and had to collect herself before she could get back up. The villain had approached her, his sinister gaze fixed on her worried look. The Bat had been frozen in place herself as if her own power had backfired on her. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t fly, she was too worn out to bring upon her will to use her sonar waves again and if she tried to just get up and run, the villain would easily use his wind power on her and she would be trapped. She was stuck and all she could do was sit there as the villain kept getting closer and closer. 

When he was only inches away, he had been stopped when something knocked him down. Chameleon appeared from thin air right after, her arm still extended post-punch. The Bat was shook as she and Chameleon shared a gaze of two different types. 

Rather than extending an arm to help her fallen hero friend up like the Bat would have expected, Chameleon knelt over the fallen villain and grabbed a pen that had been hanging from an open pocket on his costume. She shrugged and broke it in half. 

“What would you do without me,” she said, sarcastically, to Ladybug who had swooped in a moment after, using her yo-yo to capture and cleanse the akuma. 

Once everything had gone back to normal, the victim of the akuma had awoken and revealed himself as someone who had gone to the Mayor, telling him that his family needed help in recovering from household damage during a tropical storm but all he had to offer was a pen. Ladybug, then consoled him, telling him that the pen contained the Mayor’s personal information with his e-mail and could use that to write to him personally about the issue. 

The Bat remained sitting there, watching on as this happened, until Chat Noir stood before her, offering to help her up with his hand extended. She finally took his hand and got up, her rear sore from the drop. 

“Quite the protector we got here, huh?” Chameleon patted the Bat on the back, smiling, then moved next to Ladybug, crossing her arms. She couldn’t help but remember how she felt about the new hero practically abandoning her responsibilities, but she also wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. 

“Come on, Chameleon,” said Chat Noir. “We both know she’s new to this.  Wherever she came from, she’s probably not used to dealing with akumas.”

The Bat began to feel patronized and grew uncomfortable until Chat Noir met eyes with her.

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured her. “Me and Ladybug sure didn’t get it right on  _ our  _ first try. Being a hero of Paris takes getting use to, and that’s okay ‘cause you know what?” He placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “ _ I _ believe in you.”

His smile after that sent chills down the Bat’s spine and that one short second she found herself gazing into his cat-like eyes felt a lot longer to her. She was caught in a trance she couldn’t allow herself to let go until a beeping was heard and he looked away when Ladybug stepped in and noticed the Bat’s time was almost up and she needed to disperse. She had one red ruby left until she detransformed. 

“We should all do the same,” said Ladybug, “before we all  _ really  _ get introduced.”

The Bat began to run off until Chat Noir yelled out, “You gonna leave without a name?”

She stopped and the chills returned. She turned around, hesitating before she awkwardly said, “Uh… Batty Bat.” Then, she fled right away. 

Arriving home just in time, Batty Bat detransformed back into Ezra Hawthorne as Puvva had appeared, coming out of her Miraculous. 

Ezra ignored him and began to pace across her room, pondering. 

“The power should have worked. Why didn’t it  _ work  _ a second time?” She began to grind her teeth as she continued to pace, trying to figure out what it was that had held her back. 

“Because it doesn’t work that way, doll,” said Puvva. “Once you use your special power, that’s it. After that, you only have five minutes before you automatically detransform and become you again.”

Ezra stopped pacing and darted her look toward the kwami, then approached him and asked, “Another one of the stupid rules I’m presuming?”

“Oy vey.” Puvva rubbed at his temples and lowered himself onto Ezra’s bed. She was as much of a headache to him as he was to her. “Look, you remember how you wore yourself out by using the Sonar Waves multiples times? I got the same deal going on, toots, and it’s when you use that special power. That wears  _ me  _ out. I only got so much left in me after that before I can hold out your heroic disguise any longer. After that, I gotta recharge my batteries with a snack. This is stuff you would’a known, had you let me finish explaining!” He collected himself, then rubbed his little hands together. “Now, what have you got for me?”

Ezra had paused, furrowing her brows. She, then, walked over to the kitchen and came back with a knife which she used to cut her index finger. 

She, placidly, held out her bleeding finger to the kwami.

“No,” he yelled. “Stop! You don’t have to do that to yourself. It’s gotta be something quick and easy, anyway, like a  _ human  _ snack. You never know when it has to be on-the-go.” He looked around the room and spotted an open box of macarons sitting on Ezra’s desk. It was perfect. “What about that,” he asked. 

Ezra looked over to the box of pastries she had been meaning to eat today after having stored them in the freezer all this time. 

She looked back to the kwami and said, “But you’re a vampire bat.”

“No, dear. I’m a Kwami.”

“You  _ clearly  _ resemble a vampire bat.”

“Sweetie, I’m a demigod, not an animal. I don’t play by the rules of mother nature.”

Ezra sighed, wishing there was some larger explanation for what this aggravating being really was. “Very well, then,” she said and tossed over the macaron to him which he then caught and took one blissful bite, to his satisfaction. 

“Oh, that feels  _ so  _ much better. I haven’t eaten in  _ decades _ .” He took another bite and began to keep talking with his mouth full as Ezra rolled her eyes and began going to her desk to write in her journal. 

“So, what about that Chat Noir, eh? Ain’t  _ he  _ the tallest glass of water you ever saw?”

Ezra blushed and turned to look at Puvva, who had impersonated her adoration for the hero by making googly eyes. 

She scoffed and began to deny any possibilities before going back to writing in her journal, but Puvva wasn’t buying into it.

“You can’t fool me, honey. I could feel those little tingles  when you were sharing the looks. You’ve got the hots for that bird, or should I say Cat.” He took one last bite of his snack before placing himself right on Ezra’s journal, looking up at her. 

“Alright,” said Ezra. “I’m going to kindly ask you to stop now.”

“Admit it, doll. He’s a real sheik to ya.”

She flicked him away with her journal, but he came back to sit on her head.

“No point tryna play me for a sap,” he said. “Those rosy cheeks don’t lie.”

She shook him off her head, trying to ignore him, but he kept persisting, humming the tune to Frank Sinatra’s _ “Let’s Fall In Love” _ to which Ezra was, at least barely, able to tolerate as she continued to write.

 

***

 

Going back to school the next day was not something Ezra had expected to be taken lightly, considering her new appearance. Even so, she was still surprised at all the stares she had received when walking into class that day. 

Some students gawked at her while others simply had a hard time recognizing her. It was when the whispers around the room escalated that Ezra had clenched onto the strap of her satchel with one hand and make sure her Miraculous was hidden underneath her bangs with the other in order to avoid any possible suspicions, considering how her new heroine identity was already beginning to trend all over the LadyBlog. 

Marinette’s curious gaze had followed Ezra to her seat. It wasn’t until Alya had nudged her that she could bring herself to look away. 

“Looks like the newbie’s got a new look,” said Alya. 

Once Ezra had taken her seat, she sat there for a moment, staring, blankly, down at her desk before she could think to pull out her notebook and prepare for that class. 

Juleka had pulled her out of her thoughts when she said, “Nice look. I knew you’d find a good place to shop.” 

Rose jumped in, looking at Ezra with an astonished stare and gasped. “Oh wow, Ezra,” she exclaimed. “You look wonderful!”

Ezra threw on her best fake smile and nodded. “Thank you, both,” she said, then finally went to pull out her class notebook. 

As far as she could have gotten with that conversation, she was still trying to warm up to this new life that was set for her; being the hero, saving the day, protecting against evil forces. These were things she’d never thought she was capable of.

In all of this, however, she still had her secret identity wherein she could at least pretend like things were normal - or at least normal enough for Ezra’s case - until of course she had to go back to being the hero and saving the day. It was plenty to take into consideration and a lot to balance. She had to be, as a hero, everything she wasn’t much of, in reality, and this, as the kwami had put it, was definitely a lot to swallow. 

For no reason at all, just out of habit, Ezra had looked over to where Élodie had been sitting, beside  Nathana ë l, only to notice she had been meeting eyes with her. This was strange to Ezra because out of all the times she had looked over to her table, she had never once imagined she’d be sharing a look with her. 

Rather than blushing uncontrollably this time, Ezra just smiled and waved.  Élodie began to wave back, but was pulled aside by  Nathana ë l who wanted to resume teaching her how to draw. 

Ezra lowered her hand and bit down on her lip before trailing her vision away and nodding, pensively. She decided to pull out her journal to write some poetry for the first time in what seemed like a while, suddenly flooded with all kinds of inspiration. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i know this chapter might have been kinda boring and some parts didn't make much sense but I really rushed through this one just to get it over with so I can move on to the juicy part which is the next upcoming chapter...


	10. Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crush develops, but it goes hard when Ezra's alter ego, Batty Bat, almost costs her entire team their Miraculouses. Torn between what she wants and what she must do, Ezra must fight to protect the one thing she values most of all... her emotional state.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a little feelsy and I got very emotional writing this okbye...

In her hero form, the Bat began to show more interest in saving the day and protecting her fellow heroes, especially when it came to Chat Noir. Everything she did was to impress him. She would laugh at every one of his terrible puns and show more participation in battle, even by helping catch a few akumas rather than sticking to her sole duty to protect. He never seemed to notice much of what she did, but that didn’t stop her from trying…

… until one day.

It was like any other day, fighting against one of Hawk Moth’s akumatized villains, but something stirred within the Bat and it wasn’t the regular flashing images of Hawk Moth’s silhouette and laughter echoing in her ear that had been throwing her off her game this time. 

She could feel her heart sink deeper with each flirtatious line he made to Ladybug. It almost made the Bat envious that the heroine could get his attention without even trying, whereas the Bat, herself, would only receive a mere compliment of appreciation for good work from him. She’d have tried going about it like he did, but she was never any good at flirting.

The Bat tried to ignore it and focus on her duty to protect her heroes. 

The villain they were currently dealing with was a mind reader and could easily manipulate people’s minds, but his power could only be used to pinpoint someone’s most vulnerable thoughts and feelings, which was the perfect weapon for the couple he sought vengeance on, and perfect for Hawk Moth to obtain the Miraculouses, up until the four heroes came along and they weren’t so easily tricked when they could clear their minds by distracting themselves with the fight and being hidden under the Bat’s power-cloaking wings. Since the villain could only read vulnerable thoughts, he had no idea what their next move would be, so he was caught nearly defenseless.

The Bat kept her distance and surveilled the fight below from the rooftop. If it looked like they were beginning to look entranced, she was to swoop down and bring her heroes away from his control. 

As if the moment weren’t perfect enough, she quickly took action the moment she saw Chat Noir beginning to look influenced. 

In a flash, she brought Chat Noir to the roof and tried to snap him out of it.

Literally.

She snapped her fingers in front of his face and smacked his cheeks with the back of her hand. 

“What did he tell you? Chat! Wake up. Listen to me. What did he say?”

With a distracted look on his face, as if he were completely lost within his thoughts, Chat Noir mumbled only two words that were more said to himself than as a response.

“I’m nothing.” 

_ “Chat Noir. You think you’re something special? You and I both know I’m not really the one playing tricks here. This hero thing you’re doing, this is all just and endless ruse you’re playing on yourself to hide the fact that  _ **_you’re nothing_ ** _ without that suit.” _

Hearing the words replay over and over in his head, he started to feel convinced and brought his head down to repeat the words again to himself. “I’m nothing.”

The Bat couldn’t, for the life of her, understand what the villain could have said to make him the way he was, but she saw the hurt in his eyes and she couldn’t bear to let it last another second.

She put her hands to his face and brought his head up to look into his eyes.

“Listen to me,” she said, sternly. “You are  _ not  _ nothing. You are everything. You have saved Paris more times than anyone can count and even though you didn’t do it alone, I know for a fact that most of those akumas couldn’t have been captured if it weren’t for you.”

He started to trail his eyes away, but she shook his head and made him look back at her.

“Look at me! You are special, okay? You were actually  _ chosen  _ for this role and you were chosen for a reason. You are destined for great things, Chat Noir. Don’t let that villain get into your head.”

She let go of his face and Chat Noir let his head drop again. 

The Bat snarled. Nothing she said was going to break him out of it. She didn’t realize how much she wasn’t helping. She, then, thought of the only solution she could think of, the one thing she was good for. 

She used her sonar waves to create that high-pitched shriek in his cat ears. Those cat ears rang and the cat in him had yowled. 

Chat Noir shook his head and instantly snapped back to reality.

He looked at the Bat and she stared back at him with hopeful eyes. Before a word could be said, Chat Noir looked down below to see Chameleon begin to be manipulated by the villain’s charm. He used his staff to make his way to the ground. The Bat followed.

“Chat Noir,” said Ladybug, backing away from the villains heinous gaze. She tried looking away, but the villain’s charm was powerful enough to affect the heroine with just his voice. The Bat blocked it out by shielding Ladybug with her wings. No akuma’s power could penetrate them, not even through sound. 

“Thank goodness you’re back,” said Ladybug from beneath the wings of the Bat who was prepared to use her sonar waves if the villain were to make another move, in which he and Chameleon were both standing still next to each other, staring her down. 

The Bat had expected the next few words to be said, but was stunned to hear them anyway.

“Nothing can keep me from you, m’lady.”

She turned her head to Chat Noir, distracted by his flirtatious remark, her heart sunken deep into the abyss. She was no longer focused on the fight. The villain used this perfect opportunity to use his control over Chameleon to give a swift punch in the Bat’s jaw. She didn’t even need to go invisible for this one.  

The Bat dropped so hard on her face unto the concrete that a tooth came out as she was knocked unconscious. Ladybug tried running to her side, but the villain stuck his hand out over her face and brought her face up to him, entranced.

“Ladybug, no-”

Before Chat Noir could make another move, the villain stuck his other hand out to him and brought them both to his side.

“Stay,” he told them and went to the fallen Bat. 

He moved her to her back with his foot and looked down at her gaping scarlet mouth.

His power had only increased with each possession. He could now completely control them without needing to first dig into their vulnerabilities. With a chuckle, he looked back to the three heroes he had under his control and then back down to the Bat.

The purple ring had appeared over his face and Hawk Moth had urged him to take the Miraculouses. The villain had assured him he would get to that, then resumed what he was about to do.

“Time to make you  _ disappear _ , just like  _ Chameleon _ does… Wake up!”

To his command, the Bat’s eyes plopped open and she sat up, spitting blood. 

“Pathetic,” said the villain. “So,  _ these  _ are the prodigal acclaimed heroes of Paris?” He walked around, gesturing to each of them, without noticing one of them had already been missing. 

The Bat tried bringing herself off the ground, but was weak all around from the fall, sonar waves, and emotional state she was in. 

The villain laughed and knelt down to her. “And  _ you  _ are supposed to be their protector? You can’t even protect yourself. In fact, you’re so unfit for the job that I don’t even need to control you do keep you down...” He brought his face closer to her bat ear and whispered, “...but you already know that, don’t you?”

The Bat widened her eyes, remembering he could do more than just control minds. 

“Ah, yes. The poor bat under the predicament of a little crush for the cat boy whose love shines for another. I feel your pain, truly I do. It’s terrible, isn’t it? It hurts, doesn’t it, knowing he’s never going to change his mind, knowing there’s no chance in hell that he’ll ever fall for someone as pathetic as you anyway? You knew from the beginning you weren’t meant to take on this kind of responsibility and you were even more unprepared for the love you’d come to feel for him as well. Now you’re questioning whether you want either anymore, but you also know you can’t give up either, no matter how much you just want it all to end.”

The villain didn’t even need to read much of her thoughts to get into her head and she knew it. Somehow, she knew he was mostly just trying to empathize with her.

“Join me, Bat,” he said with an arm extended out to her. “Conquer love  _ and  _ pain with me and you will never have to make a choice. You can have it all and you’ll never have to feel pathetic, lonely, and undeserving of a great chance  **ever** again.”

The Bat hesitated. She knew she wasn’t being controlled by him at all, so why did she want, so badly, to take his hand? 

Out of all the thoughts she could conjure in her head, the one thought that stood out was freedom. In taking his hand, she could be free of the responsibility of protecting her heroes and free of the unrequited love she was trapped in. She could forget her past and set aside her old life for something new, something better. She didn’t put much thought into it. Freedom was all she wanted and freedom was what she was going to get. 

“Come on, Batsy,” said the villain, “Don’t you want  _ them  _ to protect you, for once?”

With one move of impulse, she grabbed his hand and a rush of adrenaline and excitement ran through her so rapidly all that came out of her was a grin as she moved her eyes up to him. With one quick smirk looking back at her, the villain grabbed onto her Miraculous with his free hand. Her grin changed into her former look of regret and she tried grabbing onto his arm to pull it away, but his grip on the jewel was too strong. She tried using her sonar waves, but was too weak for anything to come out. All she could do at this point was scream. 

Suddenly, something knocked out the villain and he dropped to the ground, letting go of the jewel. Chameleon appeared from thin air a moment after. 

“Always my best trick,” said the heroine who, then, stuck out an arm to the Bat to help her up.

The Bat thanked Chameleon, but paused when she met eyes with her scowl. 

“I know what you’re going to say,” began the Bat before Chameleon stuck out a hand to her face. 

“Save it,” she said, walking toward her companions and observing their state. Though the villain was unconscious, his power still had full effect on the two of them. 

Chameleon turned back to the Bat, saying, “Whatever you did to Chat Noir to snap him out of it, you need to do it again.”

“I’m.. I’m too.. weak... to use my abilities at the moment…”

Chameleon rolled her eyes. “Look,” she said placing a hand on the Bat’s shoulder, “When I found a loophole out of that bastard’s control, I heard everything. You need to wake up and smell the Camembert before something like this happens again.” She placed the other hand on the other shoulder. “For the good of the team, I suggest you  _ get over it, pronto _ , before it continues to affect your performance. You’re supposed to protect  _ them _ .” She pointed to the duo who were still standing still and expressionless. “We all believe in you and we can do this together, but I can’t help you if you don’t put in your part. Okay?”

The Bat brought her head down, relieved she hadn’t noticed her about to give in, but at the same time disconsolate that Chameleon was referring to her infatuation over Chat Noir. Still, everything was now to be back to normal soon and she hid her emotions behind a stern look and looked back up to Chameleon, nodding and assuring her that she understood. 

When they had located the akuma and destroyed the item it was connected to, Ladybug and Chat Noir had broken out of the villains control and Ladybug proceeded to capture and cleanse the akuma to reveal a psychologist behind the mask of the villain who got too close with one of his patients whose heart sought out for the man he felt she didn’t deserve after having confided in him about her relationship issues. 

The Bat stared on, disappointed, seeing that the man was revealed to be even more pathetic than he had claimed her to be. She swooped away from the scene without a word to her heroes and went home to detransform.

 

Back home as Ezra, later that night, she had been looking at herself in the mirror at the spot where her tooth was now back where it was, as if nothing had happened to her. She went to her desk to write it in her journal, along with the rest of her day, careful not to write anything too revealing in her journal for good measure:

 

_ How could I have been so foolish? Seeing that man back to his former state made it all clear. It was all a trap. None of it was real. I never would have gotten all of what he had promised. The shameful part of it all was that I was completely conscious of it. He had no control over me, he knew he didn’t need to and I proved him right, all because I had one mere moment of weakness. All over a boy, but a boy who was worth the risk, a boy I’d do anything to have, a boy I’m madly- _

 

“I’m worried about you, doll.”

Ezra was staggered to hear something sounding so genuine come from her kwami, something that wasn’t just another one of his trickster pranks or one of his sarcastic jokes. 

She turned her chair around to face him, but was showing no further signs of weakness or surprise.

“Yes. The Chameleon already gave me the rundown. One opinion is enough for toda-”

“You can keep denying it all you want, but I saw what was inside of you out there. I’m not blind, y’know, and I’m not gonna lie, it was a little funny at first… but… you would have taken  _ his  _ hand,  _ Hawk Moth’s _ hand, if it meant getting that bird to your nest.”

Ezra’s vision trailed off in deep thought. She had not really considered Hawk Moth before. 

“Don’t you think,” Puvva continued, “maybe, he doesn’t belong in your nest?”

Ezra became flummoxed. Since when was Puvva one for the metaphors?

“ The Ladybug and Cat miraculouses are yin and yang and have always found their way to each other. They share an incomparable bond that no other can match. I wouldn’t doubt that Ladybug will figure that out for herself as well, but when that times does come, how will you be able to handle it, when you could hardly even handle today?”

She was so astonished by Puvva’s sudden serious tone that she couldn’t find the words to say.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Chameleon on this one, Ezra. You need to do what’s best for those you’re trying to protect. If you really do care for him, you gotta do whatever it takes to protect him even it if means accepting the fact that it’s never gonna happen so you can stop letting your feelings distract you.” That had been the first time he referred to Ezra by her name. He really wasn’t kidding this time. 

The whole time, Puvva kept his distance. He wasn’t trying to bug Ezra at this point by sitting on her head or her shoulder. He was really trying to get through to her. Somewhere inside, Ezra could sense this was about more than just them being stuck with each other. Puvva was showing genuine concern for his holder.

Ezra looked off to the side and sighed. Maybe everyone was right. 

She looked back at her kwami and said, “I understand,” then she got up from her seat. “I’m going to bed.” She moved herself to her bed and slammed her body onto her mattress. Looking back at her kwami, she tapped her hand beside her pillow for the kwami to rest beside her. He, himself, had been surprised but went at her command anyway, smiling. 

As fate would have it, Ezra was finding herself going through the night with no sleep at all. She stayed up thinking about Hawk Moth. Tying the villains to him was something that she never thought about, as much as she knew. She knew very little of how his power worked, but it had explained the flashing images and nightmares that woke her up thinking of him, even if she couldn’t remember a single one. 

If it wasn’t that keeping her up, it was what had happened earlier today and what she put everyone through because of her silly little crush, but it wasn’t silly to her. What she had felt for him, she felt deep and she didn’t know why. He was just so perfect. Something drew her to him. Maybe it had been his heroic qualities or the fact that he could use such a dark power for good so fluently, bringing her all the confidence she could need for her own powers.

Maybe, it could have been his puns, how he could bring humor to a dire situation, giving a reassuring comfort no one else could. She felt comfort and peace with him, two unfamiliar feelings that were suddenly possible when he was around.

Puvva began to snore right beside her ear and that was able to pull her out of her thoughts. She rolled her eyes. Of course kwami snore if they can sleep. 

Disturbed by the thoughts that always awaited her on her bed, and Puvva’s snoring, she went to clear her head on the balcony as the view of the lights on the Eiffel Tower glowing in the distance kept her calm. 

She suddenly had an idea as she furrowed her brows. Maybe it didn’t have to be just a view anymore. She had always wanted to go to the top of the tower and observe the life of the city from way up top. Now she had just that ability. 

She woke up her kwami and called him to transform. He was startled to be woken up to a transformation so late at night, but could do nothing about it so it didn’t matter. 

Ezra transformed into her heroic alter ego and went to fly up to the top of the tower. 

She crouched at the edge to look down at the whole of the city.

Paris had never looked so beautiful from up there. It was definitely a much better view than the one from her balcony. She only wished she had remembered to bring her journal to write it all down. Since she couldn’t do that, her mind drifted her away to brood. 

She was conflicted. She didn’t want to accept having to let go the one thing in her life that made her feel happy and she certainly didn’t want to have to face that fact every day, looking at him.

“I just don’t have a pun in me for a view this magnificent.”

The Bat froze in place when she heard his voice and felt it trickle down her spine. She turned to see none other than the ‘cat boy’ himself, leaning on the iron piece of the tower behind her. 

“I like to come up here to think, too. I think it’s safe to say even a sleeping kwami is still too much company, sometimes. Plus, there’s quite a sight to see.”

He went to crouch down next to the Bat and said, “Guess I’ll have to find a new spot for that then, maybe the Notre Dame. Although, I must say it can’t compare to a view like this. I’ll admit, I’m gonna miss it.”

“N-No,” stuttered the Bat. “You can keep the view. I only wanted to come here once anyway.. see what it was like.” She looked back out into the city and cleared her throat, not knowing what else to say to him. 

With a small, heartfelt smile, Chat Noir said, “Okay,” and looked out into the city with her. 

The Bat moved her eyes to him, inconspicuously, and watched him as he was taken by the view of the city. She couldn’t stop focusing on his eyes. She turned her head to be able to completely see him as the cool breeze swept over him and he closed his eyes in sentiment as he felt it caress his face. The Bat could have lost herself in his remarkable glow.

“Really can’t beat that view, huh?” said Chat Noir, looking back down at the city.

The Bat, smiling, looked at him and said, “Yes,” then shook her head when she realized she was still staring at him. Looking back down below, she blurted, “Almost as beautiful as Ladybug?” She instantly regretted saying that and felt prickles in her stomach.

Chat Noir simply looked back at her with a chuckle and a sigh before saying, “Hey, we’re friends, right?” At this point, he could have been an idiot and still have sensed her infatuation for him a mile away. Anyone could have.

The Bat was caught, hesitant. She immediately collected herself and replied, “Uh.. Yes, of course.”

“So, if I tell you something, it would be okay? I can trust you, right?”

The Bat bit hard on her lip and nodded, trying not to look concerned at what she knew he was going to say. 

“Ladybug…” He looked back out into the distance and scoffed. “Wow. Ladybug is more than beautiful. She’s… brave, passionate, clever, and all around just remarkable! I’ve loved her since the very beginning. I don’t know why, but something was always pulling me closer to her, almost like it was meant to be, even though she couldn’t see it at first until she found out I was really-”

He had stopped himself before he said too much. He was still excited to have finally found out who was behind the mask that he almost let himself get carried away. He looked at the Bat who had looked back at him perplexed and immediately saved himself from the moment. 

“... really… everything she ever wanted. Now I’m as happy as I could ever be with her. She’s everything I could ever dream of and more. No one else could make me feel the way she does…” He brought his head down and took a breath before looking at the Bat. 

“... and I know, someday, you’ll find someone like that, too.”

Chills ran down her spine when he smiled at her. He knew how she felt about him, and, as Puvva had predicted, she was not prepared to handle it at all when she realized Ladybug did return those feelings for him. As humiliated as she felt, piecing it together, she felt even more crestfallen that he, himself, had basically given her the same thing everyone else had; an sign, telling her to let her feelings for him go.

She sighed. It was like her kwami had said; the two were made for each other. Nothing she said or did was ever going to change his mind. She wasn’t meant for him. That was the end of it.

With half a smile, she nodded. “Possibly,” she said in response to him, as much as she highly doubted it. “Thanks,” she, then, said to him, “for... everything.” She kept her eyes on the city, unable to bear looking at him. 

“Hey,” he said, “just doing my part.” Once he had said that, the Bat began to recall what Chameleon had said about doing her part. It didn’t make her feel any better for what she was prepared to do with the villain before. 

She was suddenly shocked to feel his kiss on her cheek. She looked back up at him as he stood up to look down at her with a warm smile. “Thanks for being such a good friend,” he said before he swept himself away using his staff, leaving the Bat to herself. 

As she felt his presence fade, she could feel her love for him start to dissipate as well. One way or another, she was going to have to learn to get over it and get over him...

… For the good of the team.. And for the good of the city.

 

***

 

Ezra sat at the edge of the park bench and kept writing in her journal about the world around her, how it felt to be surrounded by people who don’t even have a clue what real responsibility was like. She started writing poetic articles of her overall feelings on her opinions having to do with the different kinds of people she had observed around her.

She found herself distracted when she heard a man playing guitar in the front of the park. She tried ignoring it until she realized the familiar, nostalgic tune he was singing. 

Going up to the man, she noticed he had been playing his own cover of “ _ Crush _ ” by David Archuleta. She hadn’t heard that song since childhood and would have cringed at the sound of it, had she not noticed how fitting it had been to her most recent predicament. 

She pulled 10 euros out of her satchel and threw it in the man’s guitar case, then sat beside him as he continued to play. 

He stopped singing but kept playing, motioning for Ezra to throw in a verse. 

She didn’t know what to do. She had a vague memory of singing with her mother in her childhood, but didn’t think she had it in her to sing again, especially not in public. She was a writer not a singer…

… but nothing could hold her back when her emotions started to take over.

She came in singing the pre-chorus of the song up to the end of the chorus when the song ended. Right after, the locals who had been watching the performance began to start clapping. Ezra truly had inherited her mother’s angelic voice, another inescapable quality she had despised about herself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided not to rush my way through this chapter as much. Still feels rushed but I just wanted to get the whole crush thing down in one chapter and thankfully, by some miracle, I was able to make it fit.   
> Also , going through this chapter, the only thing that kept crossing my mind was that song by David Archuleta, for some reason, which is what inspired me to write the last part of this chapter. Talk about nostalgia hitting you right in the feels. I'm with you though, Ezra. I probably would have cringed, too.


	11. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the teacher announces it is Élodie's birthay, Ezra decides to take her chances and give her a poem which sparks a friendship she could never before fathom. A short while after, Chloé announces her own birthday to which she is throwing a party they weren't invited to. When they decide to crash it, the plot thickens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I saw that the newest season was leaked. I was hoping to have this whole thing finished before that happened, if not while it was at least still in production. Welp.  
>  I'm sure everyone should know by now that this story was concocted before season 2 so any plot changes on the series that may affect this story simply won't apply for its remainder.

Ezra had never before thought it would be as hard, getting over a little crush, as it was getting over the discrimination she’d have to put up with in her hometown. It took more strength than she was willing to put in, but, with time, she saw herself finding ways to push through it. 

Her battle tactics, as the Bat, began to revert to the way she started; showing barely any participation, overall. The only thing that was different was that she still took her responsibility to the heroes as serious as she could by surveilling the fights at all times until it was most convenient for her to jump in. As it had turned out, the Bat Miraculous wasn’t really needed for much else, considering the purpose of its creation. 

On the bright side, school was a breeze. Ezra found it very easy to separate her personal life from her hero life. If anything she took advantage of all the personal time she could get. This made her study more and even excel in classes that she wasn’t very good in. 

If it was one thing distracting her from her studies, aside from Rose’s endless commentary, it was her foreign classmate, Élodie, the only other person in the room who understood what it was like to be relatively new to the Parisian livelihood. 

Her looks hadn’t had much effect on Ezra since her crush in her other life, but there was still something there she couldn’t shake. Ezra was dying to know what it was, this thing she had over her. She hadn’t paid much mind to it for a little while, but things wouldn’t be the same after the teacher stopped what she was doing to make a special announcement. 

“Attention, class,” said the teacher. “I’d like everyone to wish Miss Élodie Beaumont a happy birthday today.”

Whispers spread throughout the room while a bashful Élodie tried covering her face with a folder.  Nathana ë l rubbed a reassuring hand over her backside which sent unfathomable prickles down Ezra’s spine. 

Chloé’s laugh from the front of the classroom surpassed all the background noise.

“Looks like the witch’s glamour was able to pass for a student,” she was leaned toward Sabrina who was next to her, but she was speaking loud enough for the whole room to hear. “... but little do the staff know the ancient secrets behind those wrinkles.” A quick-witted insult, even for Chloé, but she must have been saving that one for a while. 

Élodie didn’t even hesitate to retaliate. “You got me, Chloé. I’m a witch. I guess that means I’ll have to curse you to have bad bangs for eternity.. Oh, wait… I guess not. You already got that covered yourself.” Students were heard snickering throughout the whole classroom.

Ezra began to laugh as well. Élodie had the courage to say things most students in the classroom couldn’t.  _ God _ , was she radiant. Nothing could put out the fire in her. Ezra noted this in a poem written in her journal.

Then it hit her. The perfect excuse to speak to her, finally at her grasp. The girl had hardly been a thought in her head for days, though. Would it even be worth it anymore? Did she even still care to take the action?

Ezra didn’t think it mattered. Whether or not she’d get a response out of it, she decided to take her chances. 

She ripped out a page from her journal containing the last poem she wrote of her, a haiku, describing the “mysterious girl next door”. Anything else she’d written might have been too forward, surprising enough as it was for Ezra to think such a thing for someone of the same sex. 

She called over to her classmate, Ivan, who was sitting in the row next to her. She knew of his temper so she tried playing it cool. She started by pointing out the band shirt he was wearing.

“Nice shirt. I’ve heard a few of their songs. Their latest album is quite exceptional!” Unfortunately, playing it cool was hard with an English speech pattern. She paused, then extended the folded up poem to him. “Would you mind doing me a favour and passing this to Élodie, sitting right behind you?”

Ivan eyed her up and down for a moment, then said, “Their older stuff is actually way better.” He took the poem and threw it behind him, uncaringly, before inserting his earphones to hear the exact music he was referring to. Ezra rolled her eyes. At least it had landed directly in front of her so she would receive it. 

Élodie had noticed it immediately as soon as it hit her desk. She unfolded it to read it and then began to look at Ivan who was too busy jamming and copying notes from the board to care to put his focus into anything else.

She was smart. She figured the note couldn’t have come from him, so she began looking around the class to find anyone who looked conspicuous. Ezra had already had her head turned to face the classroom when she saw the poem hit her desk. 

 

***

 

Lunchtime was pretty much back to the standard after the day Ezra studied with Adrien. Marinette had him on a tight leash so neither he, nor Nino, sat with Ezra again. Instead, the three of them sat together, with Alya and Élodie, at a table. Despite having seen the error of the way she had treated Ezra, Marinette still couldn’t shake her suspicions so Ezra and Adrien hardly spoke to each other anymore. Ezra was fine with it. As nice as it would have been to make friends, she knew her place and figured she was better off alone anyway. After a while, everyone else was convinced of that as well, including Adrien. 

When lunch had ended, Ezra waited until everyone had dispersed. Élodie held out a conversation a minute longer with Adrien and, of course, Marinette was glued to his side, sketching fashion designs beside him while she waited. 

Élodie made sure Adrien finished his food before letting him leave. When he finally did, along with Marinette, Ezra found the perfect opportunity to make her approach.

She caught her before Élodie was about to walk into her next class.

At this moment, Ezra thought she would have been frozen in place, stammering like an imbecile, trying to find the right words to say for when she finally found the perfect excuse to speak to this eccentric girl she’d been working up the gall to speak to. She found herself doing none of these things, feeling nothing more than exhaustion from trying to catch up with her. Ezra might have been surprised, had she cared to notice.

“So,” Ezra said, out of breath, “I was wondering what you thought of my gift.”

Élodie gave her a pensive stare for a moment, then raised her brows as she said, “Oh, so  _ you  _ wrote that haiku.” 

Ezra nodded.

“I figured Ivan wasn’t the poetic type.” She let a chuckle escape her. “I liked it. Thank you. I thought it was very eloquent. I really enjoyed the expressive detail you put into my hair. I’ll admit I had to reread that stanza a couple of times. Not even Nath could draw it the way you described.”  She began to hold back a smile as she spoke. Ezra couldn’t tell if she was blushing or just faking it to appease her. For once, she found someone actually hard to read, more mystery to add to the mysterious girl next door. 

“I would have given you the sonnet I also wrote,” Ezra said, “but that probably would have been too forward.” She had begun to laugh awkwardly at her statement, almost having regretted saying it until Élodie returned genuine laughter. 

Élodie had found Ezra’s comment adorable. Her laughter sent butterflies within Ezra that she could not fathom.

Élodie laughed for only a moment, then chided herself, not knowing what had gotten into her. 

She cleared her throat and collected herself. “I’d love to read it sometime,” she told Ezra, clutching onto her books, before stepping into her class. 

Ezra stared directly in front of her, frozen in her place. She blinked a few times and looked off to the ground, fixing the placement of her bangs to cover her piercing.

Puvva popped his head out from an opening of her satchel, before she began walking to her own class. 

“Looks like the doll found a squeeze.” In his case, he was happy to see how quickly and swiftly his holder was moving forward.

Ezra understood his roaring 20s slang. “It isn’t like that,” she said, looking down at her kwami, then up to Élodie through the classroom window. “She’s just… It would be nice to have a friend.”

“You have friends,” said the kwami, assuredly, “Juleka and Rose.”

“Rose is hardly a friend if an annoyance.” She was unashamed to say so. “And Juleka… needs her more than she needs me. Rose supports her and can help her with her issues way better than I could ever do. I made the mistake of getting too close with her and I will not allow myself to do that again. This is the perfect opportunity to start over.” Ezra got lost in her thoughts again before she was able to write them down.

Puvva hid his concern for her behind humour. “Yeesh, kid, for someone who uses their hands to talk, you sure got the mouth.”

Ezra looked down at her kwami, disgruntled, and popped him back into her satchel with her finger. She, then, proceeded to walk to her class, confident and excited as ever in seeing things finally begin to turn around. 

From there, they did. The next few days after seemed out of a dream. When Élodie and Ezra saw each other in class again, Ezra had passed her another poem. Élodie responded in delight to it. That soon turned into passing notes to each other. After enough note passing, Ezra invited Élodie to sit with her one day to show her more poems she’d written about different topics and places. 

By the weekend, they met up at the park so Ezra could elaborate her inspiration for writing by observing her surroundings and describing them to Élodie in poetic detail. 

Élodie was a little closed off at first and let Ezra do all the talking. Usually it was the other way around, but Ezra was too focused on observing everything else to notice. If it made any difference to her at all, it was the fact that this had only inspired her to be more outgoing, as comfortable as she already felt speaking to her. 

On Élodie’s side, there wasn’t much to go on to maintain a conversation with Ezra, so listening to her poetic descriptions became tedious after a while and her attention drifted as she started to space out. 

It wasn’t until Ezra said a keyword in her sentence that pulled Élodie’s attention back in.

“... but compared to everyone else, I might as well be  _ invisible _ .”

Élodie looked over to Ezra. “What did you just say?”

Ezra took it as a call for elaboration rather than observing the fact that she hadn’t been paying attention like she’d normally do. She didn’t care. Élodie was easy to talk to.

She, then, darted her eyes downward and asked, “Have you ever had the feeling that you just blend in with the crowd?”

Élodie bit her lip, hesitant. Ezra smiled and stifled a chuckle when she looked back up at her. Élodie knew exactly how that felt.

“Sometimes,” Ezra said, “I find myself believing that being as observant as I am is more of a curse than a blessing. I see what others usually don’t because I’ve gone so long unseen by others that seeing things as they are comforts me. In studying someone’s attributes, I can see exactly why they wouldn’t want to approach me. In studying nature, I can validate that my loneliness is what makes me human.” She drew back after that last sentence, clearing her throat. 

_ People don’t like hearing about your struggles. No one wants to hear that rubbish. _

“Anyway-” she continued, but Élodie spoke up.

“I get it,” she said. The firmness of her tone made Ezra gulp her saliva, bashfully.

Élodie continued, reluctant in letting herself open up, but doing so anyway. “I feel like I could and should just disappear at times and sometimes.. I do, just because I think it’s my best quality. People look up to me and I don’t really know why. I’m nothing special, I’m just… there when I need to be.”

She had immediately regretted opening her mouth, feeling like she may have overshared information about herself. She chastised herself, looking down and trying to contemplate what came over her. 

Ezra lit up with every word. She was caught, speechless, at the way Élodie had opened herself up to her, blossoming like a flower and beautiful like one, too. It was at that point that she found herself, once again, stricken by her for the first time in quite a while. She, no longer questioned her emotions, or tried to contemplate why she felt them, she just felt. 

Bringing herself back to reality, she relocated her train of thought and brought herself back to the conversation by saying, “I think they look up to you because you  _ are  _ special.”

Élodie moved her eyes to Ezra and was now the one staring. Ezra would have gotten lost in her eyes, had a scoff not escaped Élodie, a moment after.

“What makes you say that,” asked Élodie.

Ezra wasn’t even trying to make it a joke when she pulled out her journal and said, “I could write you a poem about it,if you’d like-”

“No, no,” said Élodie, laughing, “It’s fine.” She stopped Ezra by placing her hand over the journal. “I believe you.” Her smile made Ezra want to start writing anyway, but she restrained herself, saving the thought for another time. 

Just like that, a friendship was born. 

 

The following Thursday, Chloé had announced she was throwing a party for her own birthday, but failed to mention inviting anybody. Not a few minutes after did a majority of the classroom receive text messages from her, inviting them. The only ones who didn’t receive a text were Élodie,  Nathana ë l,  Marinette, Alya, Juleka, Rose, and Ezra, even though Chloé had access to all of their phone numbers. 

Anyone who knew Chloé and her family’s wealth, as well as her household’s absence of controlling parents, knew that her parties were the best of all given they were provided with alcohol, food, entertainment, and many guest rooms. As much as Ezra couldn’t care any less about attending, much less being invited, Puvva began to speak from inside her satchel.

“Ya know, if it’s anything like the parties I’ve seen, back in the day, I, for one, would crash it anyway.” 

Ezra looked down to her kwami and tried to imagine how parties must have been like in the roaring 20s, then compare it to the average high school party. Puvva was in for a storm. 

She looked over to Élodie who was painting in her sketchbook with watercolors. She passed her a note, asking her to tag along. After a few minutes, she got a note back that was painted with a rainbow of designs made from watercolor. Opening up the fold, she saw the simple words, ‘Hell yeah,’ written and turned back to Élodie who threw the rock and roll sign at her. Ezra returned one. 

They had both agreed to meet each other inside, saying they’d find their own way in. Ezra would transform into her superhero form to sneak it from the roof. She wondered how Élodie would get in. 

As soon as Ezra found her way in, she detransformed and made her way to the entrance to see if Élodie might have just gone in the easy way. She was nowhere to be seen in that area. Ezra kept looking, making her way into Chloé’s room, where the center of the party was. 

The minute she walked in, she saw Chloé with Sabrina, talking to a mess of people by her bed. She had definitely invited way more than just a collection of the classroom. Ezra hid behind a group of people to avoid being seen by her. She had hoped Élodie was doing the same. 

When enough people crowded the area so she was in the clear, Ezra made her way to one of the few coolers that were scattered around the room and reached for a beer, but was stopped when someone else reached at the same time.

It was Élodie. They shared a laugh as Ezra passed her a beer. 

“I do believe,” said Élodie, cracking open the can, “That a cold one is the rite of passage to  _ all  _ friendships” She raised her can to Ezra who cracked her can open and tapped hers to Élodie’s.

They both took a sip. Ezra grimaced at the flavour.

“First beer,” asked Élodie.

Ezra nodded, holding her look. Her parents had allowed her one glass of wine at dinner, and, out of curiosity, she would sneak gin and brandy from her father’s study here and there, but beer was considered a peasant drink in her house. She had never had access to it up until now. 

“You will forgive me, but this is my first party. In all honesty, I would prefer something a little stronger over this.”

A boy, standing behind her, had overheard what she had said and turned around.

“Yo, you wanna do shots,” he said in a surprised tone. “Hey, pass over the scotch, dude, this girl wanna do some shots!”

The two uninvited guests could only pray the music was too loud for Chloé to hear that. 

The boy’s friend passed him a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey. He passed her the glass and poured in a shot for her. Ezra looked at him with furrowed brows, then looked over to Élodie who shrugged and called over to the boy asking him to pass one to herself.

Élodie tapped her glass with Ezra’s and took a shot. Ezra followed her lead. 

After a couple more shots, they had both begun to reach the ‘giggle phase’ of inebriation. The boy who had the bottle offered them a few more, but luckily for them, the boy wasn’t getting so lucky tonight for they had known their limits. 

They switched back to beer. Ezra was able to ignore the taste as her sobriety dissipated, but she began to lose sight of how much she was drinking. Élodie had to stop her before she picked up her fourth beer. She grabbed her wrist and whispered in her ear, “Those two guys over there haven’t touched the cooler or the bottle.” 

Ezra looked over to the boy who had given them the shots as well as his friend who possessed the bottle. The amount of liquor in the bottle hadn’t changed since the last shot they took. These boys were really aiming to get lucky. 

With Élodie’s hand still on her wrist, Ezra dropped the beer back into the cooler and looked over to her. In that short moment their eyes had met before Élodie let go, Ezra had loosened every part of herself and was vulnerable to the slightest touch. Her mind was racing and her emotions were unstable. She suddenly felt everything at the same time. She felt like she could do anything without consequence. The world was at her fingertips. Her heart outfought her brain.

Élodie loosened her grip on Ezra, but Ezra grabbed Élodie’s wrist and, out of impulse, pulled her in for a kiss. 

Ezra didn’t know why she did it. As far as she had known she was a cross between asexual and heterosexual, at best. In that moment, it had seemed like every particle of her being was telling her to just do it and she could feel every particle of her body pulsating once she did.

It was like static shock. Her thoughts began to race even more, in that kiss. She started to question herself even more, but at the same time figure things out about herself, like what that feeling was when she first laid eyes on Élodie and why she was so stricken by her beauty which inspired her to write all those poems and journal entries about someone she hardly even knew. She was  _ attracted  _ to her. That explained everything. 

“What the  _ hell  _ are you two peasants doing here?!”

The crowd went crazy once their lips met. All the commotion got Chloé’s attention and soon enough, she was looming over the two.

The second their lips had parted and Ezra had opened her eyes, she instantly resented every thought she had and every action she took before that. She couldn’t tell if what she had just done was right or wrong. She couldn’t tell much of anything once the alcohol hit her. 

Chloé had immediately kicked the pair from the party.Ezra’s words slurred when she yelled back to her about how they were just leaving.

When they had made it outside, Ezra collapsed onto the ground, flat on her face, moaning at how sickly she was feeling. Élodie helped her up and sat her up against the building while she called them a cab. 

Ezra had lowered her head to her knees, hugging them. She usually wouldn’t feel the way she had currently felt until the next day. Thankfully, she maintained consciousness as Élodie helped them to the arriving cab. 

As if she hadn’t made it awkward enough at the party, she now had to deal with an awkward car ride. Élodie was going to make sure Ezra got home safe so there was no way she could convince her to leave first and spare her the unpleasantry that came with escorting a drunkard to their room. Ezra already had that luxury with her own family one too many times. 

Ezra placed her elbow of the rim of the closed car window and had her hand to her face as she kept her eyes closed in a grimace. She had felt the awkward tension way more than the actual drunk itself. 

She groaned. The only thoughts left in her head were of how bad she had ruined this night for the both of them, as well as any foreseeable future she had of spending time with Élodie ever again. 

Then, she suddenly felt her hand intertwine with Élodie’s.

An action of her own impulse, she and Ezra, then, shared a smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i guess you could say Ezra kissed a girl... and she liked it. >:)
> 
> If you haven't caught it by now, Puvva talks in a slang used in the roaring 20s because his previous holder was from that timeline, so when he says "the doll found a squeeze" It's pertaining to the slang 'squeeze' meaning: "female companion or girlfriend" and is also a pun to how a child would hug or 'squeeze' a doll for comfort.
> 
> I took a couple of lines from Chapter 5 of Rae's fic to better illustrate the way Élodie begins to relate to Ezra. 
> 
> I can't tell you how long I've been waiting to get to this part of the story were Élodie is finally relevant. I honestly didn't think it would take so many chapters to get to this point. Looks like this story is going to be longer than originally anticipated. Hang tight for next week's chapter.


	12. Amour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Love is in the air."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little later than expected and shorter but here it is!

 

Élodie stood near the edge of Ezra’s bed, looking down at her as she moaned and rolled over in her sleep. 

Her head was throbbing from the migraine the alcohol had given her. She did her best to ignore it as she covered Ezra with the bedsheets. When it had been clear to appear, Arra, Élodie’s kwami, had come out, floating next to her holder. 

Arra didn’t say much. She usually didn’t speak unless she needed to. So, when she saw Puvva peek through an opening of Ezra’s satchel on the ground, she stayed silent. Puvva looked back up at Arra and grinned, gleeful to have encountered his old friend. Arra bowed in response with a smile. 

Ezra began to toss and turn until her bangs were no longer able to conceal her piercing. Élodie peered when she had noticed it. It was distinct to the Miraculous her Bat companion had, even placed in the same spot. Had it not been for the silver dots in place of the red, she would have caught on to it sooner. 

She decided not to question it further and let time reveal the truth for whatever it was when she called her kwami to transform.

“Arra, scales on.”

Without another word or sound throughout her transformation, Chameleon disappeared into the night. 

 

Ezra had woken up the next morning, sweating profusely. She heaved deep breaths and swallowed her foaming saliva. Her mouth felt dry and she could feel her heart pounding through her chest. The worst of it all was the headache she’d also woken up to. She groaned in pain and held her head up with her hand. The nightmares were getting worse but the hangover she felt, waking up, cancelled it out for the moment. 

Moments later she could hear something fizzing in the kitchen. She got up to see that Puvva had dropped a couple of tablets of alka seltzer into a cup of water that had been left there overnight. Ezra was too disoriented to pay much mind to this sudden kind gesture. 

Halfway into her drink she had heard her phone go off in her room. She stumbled a bit as she made her way to her satchel and plopped herself on her bed with her phone in hand.

Élodie was texting her. 

She felt needles prick the tips of her fingers. Her heart fluttered. As little as she could remember about the night, toward the end, she was relieved to see that she hadn’t indeed messed things up between them. 

Élodie had asked how she was feeling. Ezra couldn’t have been happier to have been asked that by her. She responded in a humorous manner which caused the entire conversation to shift into that direction. 

The entire day was spent that way; one blissful text after the other. Ezra didn’t leave her bed or get off her phone. Puvva had to hide her phone from her a few times, much to her rage, in order to get her to transform when there was trouble. 

She couldn’t bring her phone with her in battle, either way, so she spent the whole time distracted by thinking about when Élodie might have responded or what she had replied with.

Suddenly, much to her surprise, Chameleon climbed the walls of a building to join her on the roof. 

“What are you doing,” asked the Bat. “Shouldn’t you be helping them?”

“Eh,” said Chameleon. “They got this. This is one of those easier-to-deal-with akumas that can be fought off without me. They didn’t  _ always  _ used to have me around to help when they would save the day.” She made herself comfortable by laying back and crossing her arms behind her back. “I’d rather take a breather up here for now..” She sighed. “You know reptiles are cold-blooded, so catching some rays out on the sun is great every once in awhile.”

The Bat could only stare down at her suddenly relaxed teammate before she said, “You’re not a reptile, though. You’re only dressed like one.”

Chameleon turned her head to her side to look up at the Bat, staring for a moment, then said, “Don’t your little  _ Batty Bat  _ ears tingle when they’re sensitive to sounds or do your eyes get sensitive to the sunlight? Isn’t that why you like to chill up here in the shadows until we need you?”

The Bat fell silent.

“Side effects. Comes with the gig. These are more than just spandex, honey.” She pointed to her suit, then went back to relaxing again, closing her eyes and taking in the sunlight. 

“I can see why you like it up here,” she continued. “I envy you sometimes; you get to stay up here for the most part and just relax.”

Something about the way she smiled warmed the Bat deep inside. She couldn’t pinpoint this familiar feeling onto the Chameleon, but it made her think of Élodie, the warmness she felt around her, the genuine comfort, not like she had felt with Adrien that day. This feeling was tender, more intimate than anything she had encountered before. She felt whole when she was with her and elated to talk to her. These feelings haunted her more than the nightmares and it made her ambivalent to her emotions and the mindset she had maintained her whole life that suddenly had all of no meaning since the day she first laid eyes on her. 

“Yes,” she told Chameleon. “It does have its moments.”

She went home that night, trying not to let herself contemplate those feelings as she continued to text Élodie. It had worked out well enough for Ezra to get a good night’s sleep for the first time in weeks. 

Though, she could only distract herself for so long. 

The next day, the messages were different, more dalliant. Ezra could feel the butterflies emerge when she received the first flirtatious joke from Élodie. She was unable to unravel the extremities as to what she had been feeling coming over her. She began to think about the party, the kiss, the way Élodie’s fingers fit everso perfectly in between the spaces of hers. At this point she had already filled 5 whole pages, front and back, describing one emotion she couldn’t accept for the simple reason that she had just never considered it. As much as she stood her ground for all minorities, she never thought she’d fit into that category. 

She began to wonder if there was more behind the jokes. She wondered if it was all just to fool around or if this was about something deeper. Maybe Élodie felt it, too. Perhaps she also knew how Ezra was feeling. They could figure it out together. Ezra didn’t have to be alone in it this time. 

Come that Monday morning, she couldn’t stop grinding her teeth, waiting for Élodie to enter the room so she could speak to her. She was always coming in late, whether it had been a minute after, or five.

This time Élodie was fifteen minutes late. 

The teacher had just finished taking attendance and officially marked Élodie as absent. The tension was consuming Ezra, inside and out. A whole box of gum wouldn’t help at this point, if she had any left. She began to chew at the end of her pencil, creating bite marks on the metal that held the eraser in. 

She kept the most stern look she could as she began to copy notes off the board. Unlike other times, it was hard for her to pay attention so she was just copying what was being written down rather than paying attention to what was being taught. 

She looked over to Élodie’s seat and saw a pensive Nath, jotting down notes for once. Usually, he’d get them from Élodie later while he would draw in his sketchbook, but without his study partner, sketching wasn’t an option today. 

Ezra finally found a perfect moment to sneak out her phone and text Élodie, asking where she was. Minutes passed, no response. She pushed her notebook aside and pulled out her journal, more focused on the entry she was writing than when she had been taking notes. 

About three sentences into her entry, Élodie slammed the door open to the class and stretched out her arm as she cast her upper body down, out of breath. 

The teacher went and snagged the tardy pass from Élodie’s hand and said, firmly, “Nice of you to join us, Miss Beaumont. Go and take your seat. We were just reviewing the last few chapters of Section 8.” 

Élodie, still heaving breaths, nodded and dragged herself, slapping a hand onto Adrien’s shoulder, telling him something Ezra could only distinctly make out.

“He almost saw me today. I barely made it out alive. I had to climb out the window this time just to avoid being spotted.” 

Ezra tried to figure out what she was talking about, but couldn’t sum it up to anything. 

Élodie took her seat next to Nath and smiled at him. Ezra snapped her fingers to get her attention and it worked. She gestured for Élodie to come sit next to her and waited for the class whispers to increase before speaking to her. 

“I must confess, I have not been able to stop thinking about you… or that night… when I had kissed you… I’m not quite certain what it is about you but, since the moment I first saw you, I haven’t been able to think clearly about a lot of things, which is not like me at all. I’m always certain of everything, especially my emotions, but for some reason when I speak to you or see you smile there’s this feeling that comes over me and it’s as if something is erupting inside of me and I start feeling a way I’ve never felt before and I do not know what to do about it and-”

“Ezra, shh..” Ezra had begun to gradually speak faster and louder. Élodie had to calm her from her rambling before she drew attention or started to hyperventilate. She put a hand to her shoulder and that shut her up immediately. 

Ezra was frozen in place with her eyes locked on her. 

“Relax,” Élodie continued. “It’s going to be okay. I know you’re confused, but what you’re feeling is completely normal and sane, okay?”

The teacher had been eyeing them down and students began looking in their direction.

“Look, we’ll talk about this later. Meet me at the park after school, alright? Élodie stood up from her seat to go and sit down next to Nath. The class resumed around Ezra who was still unable to focus as well up until the end of the school day. 

She rushed to the park, after school, and sat on the same bench. She looked around to see if Élodie had been nearby, but she was nowhere to be seen just yet. She opened her satchel to grab her journal, but Puvva stopped her from doing so.

“ _ I agápi eínai ston aéra _ .” What he said was in Greek, the Spartan language. 

“What was that,” asked Ezra.

“Oh, nothing,” replied the kwami with a smirk. 

She rolled her eyes and moved him aside to grab her journal. 

She had it open to a page when she noticed Élodie standing before her. She stared for a moment before noticing she left her satchel open and quickly went to close it before Puvva could be seen. She then moved her things so Élodie could sit. 

They had both shared an awkward stare before Ezra finally found the words to say. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she blurted, then immediately chided herself. “Oh, um, I mean… I just- I.. There’s something I…although I probably shouldn’t… but I wanted to tell you that-” She sighed. “Oh dear.” She brought her hand to her forehead and began to look cross until she heard Élodie giggling. 

“It’s okay,” said Élodie. “You can tell me anything.”

Her warm smile sent chills down Ezra’s spine and lit up a spark in her that didn’t make her so shy with her words any longer.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you,” she said, “and how much…” She paused, biting her lip. “... I’ve been wanting to do it again- but I know that sounds stupid and it’s rather forward of me to say such a thing and I can’t even believe I’m saying this to you or anyone the same- not to say that I’m... I just never thought that I would see  _ myself  _ that way and I-”

Élodie leaned in for a kiss to shut her up and show her that her feelings were returned. 

Ezra felt an explosion of passion in the form of pyrotechnics within her and suddenly, her anxious thought process had melted away. Everything she had ever known didn’t matter anymore. All that was important was that she had feelings for someone and that those feelings were not unrequited, this time. 

Élodie broke free of the kiss and looked at her with a face that said, “Are you satisfied now?” It was a face as warm as her smile. Ezra looked back with widened eyes and parted lips. She, then, raised a brow, cupping Élodie’s cheek with her hand. Much to her delight, Élodie leaned her head into that hand and smiled, shyly. Ezra smiled back, placing her other hand on the other cheek and pulling her in for another kiss. Élodie overlapped with another kiss and Ezra followed. They found themselves lost in a moment of passionate bliss and they could have stayed in that moment for a lifetime. 

But, soon enough, every moment ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Η αγάπη είναι στον αέρα"


	13. Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was bound to catch up with her at some point...

“I’m not sure this is a very good idea, _mon fleur_.”

“It’ll be just fine, Ezra. Trust me. Mari is very understanding. It won't be that hard to get through to her. You'll fit in and before you know it, you're part of the gang.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Come on.”

Ezra and Élodie had been going together for some time already and were letting their feelings run the course of their relationship, putting no labels to what they were. After everything, however, Ezra would never have expected to be finding herself falling in love with someone like Élodie, but what could she say? She was perfect.

They saw each other often, except for lunch which began to puzzle Élodie as to why Ezra preferred to sit at her own table, far away, but, with enough opening up, Ezra had soon confessed her deal with Marinette to her and, as much as she could believe Marinette was so forgiving, she saw it best to maintain her distance from her.

However, one day, Élodie decided it was time for them to break the ice. She invited Ezra to sit with her friends at the table, much to Ezra’s reluctance and Marinette’s surprise.

Despite how bad she felt for the way she had wrongfully treated her co-worker that day, she still was not able to shake her suspicions toward whatever relationship she previously had with Adrien. She kept him close to her, latching onto his arm, as she saw Ezra approach their table with Élodie.

“Hey guys,” said Élodie. “You know Ezra.”

Ezra half-smiled and waved to them awkwardly, her eyes fixed onto Adrien before noticing Marinette’s glare.

“She’s going to be sitting with us now.” Élodie gestured for Ezra to sit. Ezra, awkwardly, took her seat. She couldn’t stop looking back at Marinette who wouldn’t break her stare.

“Radical,” said Nino who was sitting across from them. “Welcome to the team. At this rate, we should get Marinette to design some club jackets.” He nudged Marinette and laughed. She briefly put her attention on him to respond with a short-lived laugh that seemed ingenuine. Nino tried to ignore it.

When Marinette brought her gaze back to Ezra, she stared back. The tension in the table was rising. Everyone could sense it, except for Adrien who was nearly oblivious to everything in his personal life.

Ezra decided to ignore her and looked over to Adrien as he greeted his old study buddy with the utmost kindness.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hello,” she said back to him.

That one moment was all it took to spark up a conversation between the two which started in a topic about classwork and escalated into their common interests. She moved herself closer to him to better speak with him. She felt like she was reconnecting with a long lost friend and couldn’t have been more content to rekindle the friendship that never got the chance to start.

Marinette let go of his arm at the beginning of the conversation and began digging her fingernails into her own arm, clenching hard on her teeth. She could see they already had chemistry. No other kind of pair could click so easily.

She pursed her lips and began to inhale, deeply, feeling the uprising of a petty remark stemmed from the jealousy that was making her face turn red.

Right in that moment, she felt a hand place itself on her shoulder. Élodie had been looking down upon her, giving her a chastised look that was, at the same time, comforting. Marinette maintained her cool as Élodie’s look had implied her to do.

For now.

Afterschool, Ezra and Élodie had plans to go back to Ezra’s apartment to get some homework done and spend some quality time together. The halls were as crowded as ever as students went for the exit. The couple had to squeeze through the massive amounts of people just to get out through the entrance.

They tried holding hands to stay together, but, along the way, they lost their grip on each other and ended up losing each other in the crowd.

Élodie tried standing on her tiptoes to see if she could spot Ezra but she was nowhere to be seen. She groaned, figuring she could just wait for her at the front so she kept on trying to get out.

Right before she walked down the steps of the school entrance, she felt two arms wrap around her torso, from behind.

“Miss me,” asked Ezra into Élodie’s ear, her chin resting on her shoulder as the wave of students dispersed around them.

Élodie tittered through her smile and turned around to face her.

Ezra gave her a warm smile like the ones Élodie would give to her.

“May I have this face,” she said, playfully, placing a hand on her cheek. Élodie rolled her eyes, still smiling, and leaned in for a kiss.

Ezra touched her forehead to Élodie’s and closed her eyes.

“There’s one more thing I’ll need from you, mon chère.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Élodie, sarcastically. “And what’s that?” She had expected another one of her playful gestures.

Ezra brought her face to her ear and whispered something that would ultimately betray that expectation.

“Your Miraculous.”

Élodie grabbed onto her necklace, beating Ezra’s hand to it. She looked to Ezra in shock as she saw her sly grin and watched as a purple ring in the shape of a butterfly appeared around her eyes.

An akuma.

Élodie thought of nothing else and pushed through the remainder of the crowd to run off through the sidewalk as she pulled out her phone. Before she could dial in Adrien or Marinette’s phone number, someone ran past her, shoving her phone off her hands in the process. Her screen shattered as her phone hit the concrete and her battery fell out.

She looked up to see who the reckless bastard was that pushed her and saw a boy with gelled hair stare back at her with the same sly grin.

It wasn’t until she heard a “whoah” from beside her and turned to see the same boy staring back at himself that she realized the villain was a shapeshifter. She was almost relieved to know that Ezra hadn’t been akumatized until she realized the real worry in all this:

Hawk Moth knew her identity.

She needed to hide from the public. She had to find a safe space to transform and take them down. She didn’t know what else she was supposed to do, how she was going to get out of this if she couldn’t contact her companions on such short notice. It was the superhero instinct beckoning her to go along with the routine; See a villain, transform, fight, conquer, and let Ladybug do the rest. Although, she didn’t know how her heroes would be able to find out there was an akuma if the villain kept a low profile, but she had a much bigger concern in mind:

How was she going to take down someone who could blend in with the crowd?

Luckily, she knew all about blending in. She just needed to find something that stands out.

However, she knew she was never going to figure out what it was in her current state of being. She needed to buy some time. She needed to transform.

She ran the other way, as quickly as she could, leaving the shattered remains of her phone on the ground.

She finally found cover underneath a bridge. Not a moment after did her kwami swoop out from her shirt pocket.

“This is _bad_ , Arra. This is very, very bad.” She spoke in between breaths of exhaustion as she began to pace back and forth. “He knows who I am! Hawk Moth knows who I am… _Ay carajo_ , what am I gonna do?! How will I find a way out of this? Dammit, I should _never_ have let my guard down!” She swallowed hard and paused, then said, hysterically, “He’ll do it again... It doesn’t matter if I take _this_ one down, he’ll just do it again, when I’m vulnerable, when I least expect it, when-”

“Stay calm, Élodie,” yelled the kwami. “There’s a solution to everything. Remember that and breathe.” She illustrated deep breaths to get her holder to do the same.

Élodie took in a deep breath through her nose and out through her mouth. “Okay,” she said.

“It’s going to be alright,” Arra reassured her. “He never should have acted on his knowledge using an akuma. That only makes him vulnerable to The Cleanse, now.”

“The what?” Élodie furrowed her brows at her kwami.

“When a darkened akuma is captured, everything that had affected or was effected by its power can be replenished, even a memory.”

“That explains why no one can really remember being akumatized... So, you’re saying that he can forget who I really am now that he used an akuma against me in my civilian form?”

Arra nodded. “Ladybug will be made aware of that memory. With the power of the Ladybug miraculous, she has the power to control what gets cleansed. She only needs to focus the energy of The Cleanse into the energy of that memory.”

“Doesn’t she need to know where he is for it to work?”

“She only needs to focus on the energy his memory gives off when it’s at its most vulnerable and The Cleanse with follow it.”

“... Which means it’s now or never.”

“I am not sure if he has figured out the true extent to this power, but, if he does, he will likely find a way to be more careful next time. This may be your only chance.”

“I’m assuming the Great Guardian of the miraculouses told you all this.” Her curiosity made her wonder how a kwami of a different Miraculous knew such information.

“As it is written in the ancient book. It contains all the secrets to the full power of each Miraculous.”

Élodie chewed on her lip. “Do you think Marinette knows? About the power of The Cleanse?”

“If she doesn’t, you must be the one to tell her.”

She would need to find her first, but to do that she would need to figure out a way to distract the villain. It may have been after her but it would also be going after whoever drew the akuma to them. Her heroic instinct was telling her to act fast.

She couldn’t do it alone. It was easier when Ladybug was just a phone call away, but, without being transformed and without a phone, there was no way she could reach her.

There was no time to waste on a plan. She would just need to fight the villain off herself and figure out the rest later.

“Arra, scales on.”

***

 

Ezra pushed through the rest of the crowd until she made it through into open space. She tried calling Élodie’s phone several times. Each time, it went straight to voicemail.

She began to grow more and more concerned as she looked around in every direction to see if she was anywhere to be found, maybe waiting for her.

Nothing but frantic students waiting to be picked up..

Ezra could have only hoped she hadn’t been influenced by Hawk Moth’s power, a constant fear she had deep in the back of her head, probably from the nightmares.

When she turned back around, she saw Adrien entering a car that had been parked directly in front of the school.

She ran up to the car before it could take off, banging on the window.

The window rolled down. Ezra could see Marinette also in the car. She didn’t care. Élodie could have been in trouble.

“Have you heard from Élodie at all,” Ezra asked him. “We were supposed to go over to my apartment together, but I lost her in the crowd and now she is not answering her phone.”

Adrien began to look puzzled. “I haven’t seen or heard from her since we were all having lunch together.”

Marinette kept a stern look that Ezra mistook for jealousy rather than concern. She called for the driver to get going and stayed looking forward.

“Wait,” Ezra had exclaimed, but the windows were already being rolled back up. She kept her hands on the window, tapping on it, as she yelled, “If you get a hold of her, tell her to call me. Please! Tell her-”

And with that, the car drove off. Ezra almost fell over from the sidewalk step and had to regain her balance on the road. She grabbed onto her short, black hair, tightly, and kept that worried look on her face as she saw the car turn the corner. She would have been deeply offended by what Marinette did, but was too concerned for Élodie to care.

In the car, Marinette and Adrien shared worried looks about Élodie.

Ezra stood at the side of the road, in the same spot the car was. She worried about Élodie. She wished she hadn’t been left alone in this situation. She wished the car would turn back around and Adrien would invite her in so they could look for Élodie together. She hoped Élodie was safe, wherever she was, and free from Hawk Moth’s influence.

She, then, felt a tiny nudge on her thigh through her satchel and noticed her kwami was trying to get her attention. Right as she looked down, she noticed the shattered remains of a cell phone and realized it had belonged to Élodie.

She tried finding a secure location to transform and found an alleyway that had felt familiar to her, for some reason. She opened her satchel and Puvva came flying out.

“Whatever it is you want to say, I wouldn’t recommend you do. I don’t have time for your little games, at the moment. I need to find Élodie and make sure she’s alright.”

“All I was going to say is that-”

“Puvva, night sense!”

“Wait! Élodie’s fine!” Puvva tried to reassure her, but he was sucked into the jewel before that could happen.

As soon as she was transformed, she paused, wondering what her kwami had meant for a moment by what he was trying to say, but the worry washed over her again and she took to the rooftops.

 

***

Chameleon climbed the walls of a building to reach the rooftops and look down over the people of Paris. This had been the first akuma attack everyone was oblivious to, which only made it harder for the villain to find. It was like a game of Where’s Waldo, only Waldo looked different in each page.

This is exactly what Hawk Moth wanted. He wanted her to give up so she’d stop trying to look and the villain could catch her as soon as she let her guard down. It could have been the perfect villain for her. As long as the akuma had hold of the object, this would go on indefinitely if Ladybug wasn’t there to capture it.

Oh, how she needed Ladybug. She felt useless without her. Only Ladybug could put an end to this. Only Ladybug could save the day.

She scolded herself. That attitude would get her nowhere with this. She needed to believe in _herself_. She needed to trust her instincts that told her to keep fighting and she needed to do whatever it took to beat the enemy.

She tried to find something that stood out, something that didn’t change when the villain did. She would be able to locate the person and the akuma that way. Although, it was hard to do so when the villain stopped changing.

“I thought I might find you up here.”

Chameleon was startled by the sudden presence and turned to see the Bat standing before her. She went up to her and searched her body but found nothing out of the ordinary. She sighed, disappointed it didn’t turn out to be the villain, and moved back onto the ledge of the building, looking back down at the civilians.

“Before I ask what _that_ was all about,” said the Bat, suddenly calm in Chameleon’s presence, not trying to show any signs of worry for the sake of her identity, “I’m wondering where, exactly the fire is, because I see two superheroes out and no villain.”

“It’s a shapeshifting villain,” said Chameleon with a hopeless look on her face as she continued to look down at the city.

“I see,” said the Bat, making her way to sit next to Chameleon, “and what exactly does this villain turn into?”

“People.”

“That’s it?” the Bat turned her head from down below to Chameleon. She noticed her melancholic expression and looked back down below, trying to get to her level. “So just…” She spread out her arms and gestured to civilization. “... people.”

“Yep.”

The Bat nodded, pensively, and brought a hand over her mouth, in deep thought. “Wow,” she said. “I get what you mean; people are just so ordinary. How _could_ one be able to spot a villain under such circumstances?”

Chameleon recognized that sarcastic tone from her own self. She turned her head to the Bat with a raised brow and said, “What are you implying?”

With a smirk, the Bat twirled a finger to the side of her mouth and opened it wide, letting out her sonar waves.

Chameleon covered her ears when she heard their piercing sound. “What exactly is _that_ supposed to do? Draw attention?”

The Bat peered down at the civilians and let the feel of the waves guide her to a specific area. She pointed to it. “There.”

Chameleon looked down to the area to see someone in particular had stood up and ran when they saw her pointing.

The Bat stood up and swooped down. Chameleon paused, stunned for a moment, then came back to her senses and climbed down the wall of the building.

She ran in the direction they were going and kept running. Moments later, the Bat swooped down, running next to her.

“So,” said Chameleon, “You can detect people?”

“I can detect _akumas_ ,” the Bat corrected.

Chameleon felt as relieved as she had felt even more useless. “Well, how convenient is that?!”

They chased the villain down the road until the villain changed direction into the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, Ezra’s other daytime job.

They walked in to see Sabine walk out with supplies. Sabine immediately noticed them and put the box of supplies on the table.

“Oh my goodness, It’s Chameleon and Batty Bat, themselves!”

The Bat cringed at the name she was referred by. “I should have never listened to that trickster kwami,” she muttered.

“Honey,” said Sabine before Chameleon could ask any questions. “Come out. Chameleon and Batty Bat just entered the bakery!”

“Madame, please excuse the intrusion, but we were wondering if you saw anyone run in here, just now.”

Just then, Tom walked out before any questions were answered.

“Wow! Can you believe it, Sabine? It’s the heroes of Paris, in the living flesh.”

Suddenly, Marinette had appeared from behind him holding a box of cupcakes.

“Could I offer our esteemed guests a pastry,” she said.

The Bat cast a weird look at her. It had been strange to see her at the bakery after she was seen leaving with Adrien after school.

As she was staring, Chameleon turned around to see Ladybug hopping over rooftops with Chat Noir. She would have smiled at how relieved she felt to see them, but remembered the elephant in the room.

“That’s not Marinette,” she whispered to the Bat.

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Paralyze her.”

The Bat shrugged and blasted her sonar waves, which threw everyone off, then called out for _Venomate_ and bit down onto the shapeshifter’s neck, stunning them.

Both heroes fled from the bakery with the villain before Tom and Sabine could figure out what exactly had hit them.

“We need to get to Ladybug,” said Chameleon, looking in the direction she last saw her heroes heading, seeing them go further into the wrong direction. “Only she can cleanse the akuma.”

“We need to find it first,” the Bat responded.

Chameleon started searching the frozen villain for anything out of the ordinary, anything that didn’t look like what Marinette would usually wear. Before she could get very far with her search, the villain began to tremble, signifying that the effect was wearing off. The villain’s form, though still fixed in the same frozen position, had begun to shift into different people at a gradually rapid pace.

She began to panic, not paying attention to the fact that now was her perfect chance to find where the akuma was. All she could think about was her identity in crisis and how Ladybug was the key to the solution. Her heroic instincts had dissipated.

“Handle them,” she told the Bat. “I need to get to Ladybug.” With that, she took off and ran, leaving the Bat alone with the villain, which the Bat had known was a poor choice.

The Bat moved her gaze back to the villain and back away, watching on in concern as the effect of her power was completely wearing off. After a few more shifts, with Chameleon long gone, the villain stopped shifting and moved their arms back down to their sides, maintaining one form:

“Élodie?”

“Ah,” said the villain to the Bat, in Élodie’s form, with Hawk Moth’s voice, a voice she had only heard in the nightmares that she could not recall. “So you know this girl?” The villain began to walk slowly toward her. “Well, do you also know of the mask she hides behind?”

The villain’s form shifted from Élodie’s to that of Chameleon.

The Bat was stupefied where she stood, unable to process what she was seeing until the villain, unlike any Miraculous superhero, was able to remove their mask and reveal Élodie’s striking face behind it.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” said the villain, now in Élodie’s voice, “but I’m just so reckless. I can never keep track of how much time I have left, as a hero or in my lifespan, much like the others before me who have died, protecting their heroes.”

The Bat couldn’t find the words to speak.

“It seems like I’m not the only one who’s bad at keeping track of time.” The villain, as Élodie, looked up at the Bat’s Miraculous which had begun to beep its second beep.

She was running out of time. Where was Chameleon with Ladybug?

The villain had begun to laugh maniacally as their form shifted into that of Hawk Moth.

The Bat felt as if her _Venomate_ power had been backfiring onto her and she couldn’t move. Something about him frightened her and she suddenly found herself in a dissociative daze. She couldn’t tell if what he had just revealed to her was a reality, or if he had found some kind of way to get into her head.

“I know who you are, Élodie Beaumont,” said the villain, who was now completely and utterly possessed by Hawk Moth.

The Bat looked in the direction he was yelling at and saw Chameleon approaching with rapid velocity, accompanied by Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Defeat me now, but I will always find you. You can’t hide behind that mask anymore. You will never be safe again!”

Chameleon rose into the air, ready to throw a punch at him, and called for her invisibility as she proceeded to throw punches. Hawk Moth took them, feeling no pain from it and continued to laugh maniacally, his laughter sending chills down the Bat’s bulging spine.

It was then that Chameleon had noticed something out of the ordinary.

Hawk Moth was wearing an anklet over his suit.

She reappeared, looking down on it and quickly reached down to break it off.

The akuma fluttered out of it and Ladybug had caught it, instantly, with her yoyo. Before she had released it, Chameleon placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Remember what I told you,” she said. "Focus your energy into his. Picture what he was just saying and channel your cleanse toward the strength of those words.”

Ladybug nodded and released the cleansed akuma. She closed her eyes and began to focus, whispering, “Miraculous Ladybug.” The Cleanse then sprouted from within her in flower-like particles that danced through the air and made their way to a far off direction.

She opened her eyes when the particles made their way back to her, circling above her head before disintegrating.

A short, redheaded woman appeared from the dark blobs that formed around her. Ladybug had taken the mended anklet from Chameleon’s hands and said to her, “Get going,” as she saw her necklace beginning to beep. She took the anklet to the woman and began to talk to her in a reassuring manner.

Chameleon did what she was asked and could only hope The Cleanse had done its job. She disappeared behind a building and the Bat watched her go, curiosity consuming her.

 

“Scales off, Arra.”

Élodie opened up her shirt pocket for her kwami to hide. She took in a deep breath and blew out a sigh as she began to walk away, but paused, mid-walk, with widened eyes when she heard a voice from behind her.

“It _is_ you.”

She turned to see none other than the Bat standing before her.

The Bat’s jewel beeped its fifth and final beep and suddenly, she had detransformed back into Ezra, right in front of Élodie.

The two goggled at each other, endlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was reading through Chapter 6 again when I noticed something important that I had missed and that was the part where Élodie's identity was unveiled. Without thinking, I thought "okay. since no one really remembers what happened when they were akumatized once they went back to normal, then her identity is safe, right?"  
> WRONG!  
> Not too long after reading it back (and watching a few episodes of Season 1) did I realize that Hawk Moth can see what's happening through the eyes of the akumatized.  
> This irked me because I should have seen it before and I had no idea how I was gonna make it fit into the story line, until literally today.  
> I hope you enjoyed it because this was some genuinely massive last minute brainstorming on my part.
> 
> Also I know this reveal could have been more juicy had the audience not been made aware of Élodie's identity from the start, but if you can recall, her identity wasn't so much a secret from the start considering she's not my character.  
> Copyright to us: saintrae. Élodie is her OC and was originally introduced in: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6014647/chapters/13803664
> 
> This story is dedicated to her and her character. She's what got me into this series and the reason why Ezra exists at all so, if you haven't already, go and check out that story. Ezra's not in it though because it was made before Ezra.  
> So I guess you can say this story's kind of a fanfic of a fanfic. Meta.
> 
> 11/15/17 - slight delay on the next chapter. will write and have it posted as soon as possible.


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